Metta2

I think that sometimes, words are a barrier for the mind. A barrier that restricts us to the vocabulary we know, and the meaning we give to those words. As for me, music is a way to express that what can't be told by words. When I listen to music, I can often "see" the story that it wants to tell us.

Wow, I can totally relate to that, Tarkan. I play the flute and have been out of practice for about 2 years and I have really missed that outlet for my feelings. I think I may now be inspired to pick it up again!

Crickets chirp, their reasons unknown

Gibberish language of that which we own

I love the whole thing, Greggie! Your poem painted a picture for my mind and I could feel that struggle. The above quote really resonated with me, especially after I had read it. . . feels like gibberish to me and yes I sure do own it. Thank you for sharing it!

Hugs,

Metta2

Beautiful! Thank you for sharing, Jd1983!

What a wonderful idea to post favorite positive poems, EmotionalCreature! I enjoyed reading the ones previously posted immensely. Thank you for sharing, everyone!

This poem has always been one of my personal favorites!

IF

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

but make allowance for their doubting too,

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

or being hated, don't give way to hating,

and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream-and not make dreams your master,

if you can think-and not make thoughts your aim;

if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

and treat those two impostors just the same;

if you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

and stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

and lose, and start again at your beginnings

and never breathe a word about your loss;

if you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

to serve your turn long after they are gone,

and so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

or walk with kings-nor lose the common touch,

if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

if all men count with you, but none too much,

if you can fill the unforgiving minute

with sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And-which is more-you'll be a Man, my son!

I am so sad without you, but even more sad by how much you hurt me. I hope I can slowly learn how to regain my self-confidence and learn how to love myself again, without you.