![]() |
| Source |
"I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think."---Rumi
"A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval."---Mark Twain
""Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in the God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes."---Dr. Paul Ohliger
Midweek Motif ~ Acceptance
Wikipedia says: Acceptance in human psychology is a person's assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) without attempting to change it or protest.
I feel Acceptance is a better word than tolerance. The word has a kinder heart; intelligence, open mind and free spirit. The word is also brave enough to embrace 'change'.
In today's world however accepting others as they are is yet an issue. People seem to forget that 'Acceptance' is key to happiness.
We are writing on Acceptance today.
Let's take a look at these wonderful poems on the theme:
Acceptance
by Robert Frost
When
the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night bee too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night bee too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'
Acceptance
by Langston HughesGod in his infinite wisdom
Did not make me very wise -
So when my actions are stupid
They hardly take God by surprise.
The Weed
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A weed is but an unloved flower!
Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,
Until it learns its high estate,
And glorifies some bower.
A weed is but an unloved flower!
Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,
Until it learns its high estate,
And glorifies some bower.
A weed is but an unloved flower!
All sin is virtue unevolved,
Release the angel from the clod--
Go love thy brother up to God.
Behold each problem solved.
All sin is virtue unevolved.
Release the angel from the clod--
Go love thy brother up to God.
Behold each problem solved.
All sin is virtue unevolved.
If
by E.E.Cummings
If
freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community.
(Next week Susan's Midweek Motif will be ~ The Song of a Single Word)
