Life is so beautiful: see the sea and sky!
We are born to live; no one is born to die.
There can be storms at times, gales and hail and ice,
But they all disappear when sun and winds arise.
Where is the end of space? What stops the growth of time?
Why is the day divided in two contrasting halves?
Why does the Earth look flat while up is a vertical line?
Why do some creatures crawl while others fly and shine?
Why is “born” and “die” a must and not a choice,
But in between we are free to use our own voice?
If we were born to die, why is there up and down?
Wouldn’t it be righter to live like worms in ground?
Yes, part of us will die and form an earthly crust
But will the other part be always rust and dust?
The body turns to dust, the undertaker knows,
But does the soul inside conclude its talent shows?
It’s never been a crust; a crust can have no feelings;
And it cannot conceive existing things or beings.
Nor can it choose to be as night or bright daylight
And blind a person’s sight or help him walk aright.
If we can freely choose to go up or down,
This maybe shows us the options for the soul?
Down means dig the earth and reach a fiery core
While up is fly the sky and never hit a shore.
Blessed, blessed, blessed, blessed is the day when God conceived the world and us to be and stay!
He made us all unique with hearts resembling His and faces sweet and beautiful reflecting heaven’s bliss.
He wanted to express His image at its best unlimited and endless as North and South, East and West.
His plan was exceptional and bound to succeed despite His enemy’s trial to direct us what to eat.
He knew that some would like it and fill with its delights but others would be hungry and crave His pure sight.
And both will be given to eat what they have loved, so let us all be thankful for God’s creative staff.
My soul is resting; there is no testing.
The world is bright; my heart is light.
I’ve done the job, be it perfect or not,
And I will wait for the fruits, having planted the roots.
They’ll be good, I believe, for the seeds are sweet;
I’ve fed them with tears, and have kept them from spears.
You will see them grow and will like the show.
They will give you delight and sweeten your sight.
I will eat them, too, and enjoy them all
For who labors in pain never labors in vain.
I have a dream for you; if God wills, it will come true.
If He does not, no matter how much I want, it will not take the right naut.
For our plans are never perfect; they always have a flaw or a defect.
But His are like a brook in spring that grows bigger as it unwinds.
They are like the dew in summer haze, as intricate and complex as a wise man’s maze,
Branching in and out as you go in, flying up and down like a bird’s wing.
He will never let them if we didn’t wrought them; and whoever wrought them have bought them.
For they are aptly hidden for the blind to see, and the seeing blinded for what they want to be:
Perfect in their own mind; lucrid for the God’s design.
For you can’t buy a God’s thought;
It’s not for sale, it has to be sought.
If you do not seek it, you will leak it,
And someone else will feat in.
As for my dream, we will see if it’s God’s plan or just me.