Walking towards Lent...

Some more of the poet Kahlil Gibran, whose poetry I read in intermittent waves of delight...

You progress not through improving what has been done, but by reaching toward what has yet to be done.

Of life's two chief prizes, beauty and truth, I found the first in a loving heart and the second in a labourer's hand.

The heartbreak of love sings, the sadness of knowledge speaks, the melancholy of desire whispers, and the anguish of poverty weeps. But there is a sorrow deeper than love, loftier than knowledge, stronger than desire, and more bitter than poverty. It is mute and has no voice; its eyes glitter like stars.

The fear of hell is hell itself, and the longing for paradise is paradise itself.
Where can I find a man governed by reason instead of habits and urges?
I prefer to be a dreamer among the humblest, with visions to be realised, than lord among those without dreams and desires.

People speak of plague with fear and tremor, yet of destroyers like Alexander and Napoleon, they speak with ecstatic reverence.

Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.

Keep me from the wisdom that does not weep, and the philosophy that does not laugh, and the pride that does not bow its head before a child.

Art is a step in the known, 
toward the unknown.

When the earth exhales it gives birth to us. When it inhales death is our lot.

If reward is the goal of religion, if patriotism serves self interest, and if education is pursued for advancement, then I would prefer to be a nonbeliever, a non-patriot, and a humbly ignorant man.

An epoch will come when people will disclaim kinship with us, as we disclaim kinship with the monkeys.

Truth is the daughter of Inspiration; analysis and debate keep the people away from Truth.

Does the song of the sea end at the shore or in the hearts of those who listen to it?

The spiritual man is he who has experienced all earthly things and is in revolt against them.

If you wish to see the valleys, climb to the mountain top; if you desire to see the mountain top, rise into the cloud; but if you seek to understand the cloud, close your eyes and think.

Most of us hover dubiously between mute rebellion and prattling submission.

The butterfly will continue to hover over the field and the dewdrops will still glitter upon the grass when the pyramids of Egypt are leveled and the skyscrapers of New York are no more.

The poet is he who makes you feel, after reading his poem, that his best verses have not yet been composed.

The means of reviving a language lie in the heart of the poet and upon his lips and between his fingers. The poet is the mediator between the creative power and the people. He is the wire that transmits the news of the world of spirit to the world of research. The poet is the father and mother of the language, which goes wherever he goes. When he dies, it remains prostrate over his grave, weeping and forlorn, until another poet comes to uplift it.

~ ~ ~
Almost the temptation is to add... 'Discuss'

The one they did not read for Carol...

On Death ~ Kahlil Gibran [from "The Prophet"]

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

"On Friendship" by Khalil Gibran

This is something chosen by one of Carol's friends to read on Friday...

On Friendship ~ Kahlil Gibran (from "The Prophet")

Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.