Monday, December 27, 2004
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Create a Blessing
The morning comes – anticipation. Perhaps there'll be a change, Some inspiration, Some source of joy. A visitor, An unpredicted spectacle, Just something new That was not here just yesterday.
Because it is Today- The day that is forever Now!
This day, I can reach out my hand.
And change something for good.
Or reach into another's life,
And plant some beauty, share some joy.
Today I can create a brand new blessing,
But it is up to me.
Mark Humber. 28th October 2004.
Monday, February 16, 2004
If You Could See What I Can See.
If you could see what I can see,
If you saw with my eyes-
All that waits just there for you,
The natural sight defies…
If you could taste what I can taste,
The sweetest flavour known-
And keep that essence evermore
To be in memory sown…
If you could smell what I can smell,
The odour, sweet - of life.
Or draw into your nostrils oft,
Aromas of delight…
If you could hear what I can hear,
The voice of gentlest tone-
That calls with epilogues of love,
And warms the deepest soul…
If you could feel what I can feel,
So deep within your heart-
And feel the greatest love of all
From which you'd never part…
20th Dec 2004
Sometimes when one read the words one wrote years before, one feels one may have lost
something. At least I do now when I read this...
There was a last verse to this. I did not post it - it is the answer to the 'If' question. I leave it to
the reader to answer.
To Truly Live
A day will come when I must say goodbye-
Not just to some passing acquaintance,
But to all I know see and fulfil:
To pleasure- felt with joy, and sorrow known with pain,
And so pass on to leave all that was life.
In that strange moment that exists,
Only as a line- between this life and death.
No more substantial than the ocean’s surface:
A huge expanse existing only as the end of atmosphere,
No realer than the instant when the night turns into day.
But if I linger on the threshold of transition
And have the chance to recollect, reflect:
Would I look back and say that I have truly lived,
And licked out every trace from the receptacle of life,
And from its pitcher drained each golden drop?
How will I know if I have truly lived?
By feeling that my appetite is quelled-
That I have tasted of the best of life’s delights?
Or that when I have departed, all that’s changed for good
Is not changed only in the one who has passed on.
Oh, to leave here in some new lives an epitaph-
A trace of joy planted in some empty heart.
Or in the music of some other lives to see
The influence of the master that was I,
So I might never waste the gifts He gave to me.
Mark Humber 16/04/04
Dare to Live Your Dream.
Before me was a vast inviting Universe
Encompassing a vision greater than the eye could see.
So filled with all I longed to know, do or possess-
With things of beauty, facets of a fuller life;
Some objects worldly, some divine,
Then danger-fraught, now steeped with languid solace too-
With joy through sorrow, comfort easing pain.
All this I boldly dared to dream
Dare to live your dream.
Open up your clouded eyes,
Listen to the music of a richer life
Stop to smell the flowers while you may,
And boldly dare to live your dream.
I struggled up a rough uneven stony track
And each step hurt my aching feet and tore my bleeding soul,
Until I reach the pinnacle and sat alone.
And then my ears began to hear, my eyes to see.
I looked down from the top and smiled
Into the glorious firmament of blue
And walked back down until I reached the common path
I’d never noticed was so smooth.
Dare to live your dream.
Open up your clouded eyes,
Listen to the music of a richer life
Stop to smell the flowers while you may,
And boldly dare to live your dream.
Mark Humber
There is a story to this one too...
One day, I was feeling rather depressed about my failed marriage. All of my good intentions had come to nothing, and here I was - on my own again. I decided to go down to the Cataract Gorge near where I lived in Tasmania on my own and walk around to try to clear my head. It is a most beautiful place. It was the middle of summer, and I was dressed in shorts and tank-top with no shoes on my feet and I was in self-punishment mode - the further I walked, the more rough the track became as the poem depicts, until eventually there was no track at all. I climbed to the top of the tall hill and sat amongst the trees and bushes to nurse my hurt and pain alone. But as I sat there, I reached a deeper or heightened consciousness. I became aware of the beautiful view so far below me as I had never seen it before. I started to hear the sound of every insect around me, every movement of the bushes. Then I noticed peacock feathers around me. I had come to their secret roost and they were sitting in the trees around me. They sat quietly and seemed to empathise with the rest of nature with my personal agony. It was a magic experience. I gathered up the feathers and keep them on my wall wherever I go – a reminder of this experience.
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