[stylist] new poem: Living It

[Myrna Badgerow]

Hi  Ashley
Yes the master can be God or whoever or whatever one's spiritual guide is.  And thank you for the kind words. I love a challenge and have been so blessed to have been guided toward a positive outlook on living. 
Myrna 

Sent from my iPhone

On Jun 11, 2012, at 11:36 AM, "Ashley Bramlett" <bookwormahb at earthlink.net> wrote:

> Hi Atty,
> 
> Good poem; a reflection on life and growing it seems to be. Who is the master conductor? I thought it might be God or a spiritual being, but not sure who you meant it to be.
> 
> Ashley
> 
> -----Original Message----- From: KajunCutie926 at aol.com
> Sent: Monday, June 11, 2012 9:36 AM
> To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> Subject: [stylist] new poem: Living It
> 
> Last night during our division board meeting I  mentioned a poem I'd
> written that had really sprained the brain.  We were  given fifteen words to
> choose from and at least one of the words must be  included in a poem.  You could
> use one word or all fifteen or any number in  between.  Well, in a very
> fun-spirited email the gauntlet was thrown down  and like the bull charging the
> red cape I decided to give all fifteen a  go.
> Here are the words we had to use, followed by the  poem.  It is both
> attached and in email.
> 
> The required words to choose from:  compare,  quality, brick, cookie, tea,
> division, arch, mortality, orchestra, substitute,  split, diving, flat,
> juvenile, siding.
> 
> Living It
> 
> 
> How  does one compare the quality of life
> to the quality of living it? Perhaps  there is
> no comparison because the life we are given
> is not our choice but  the living of it is.
> There is a division, an imaginary arch that  will
> split the entities of choice and predetermined
> reality. This will  impact the other but not always
> determine the journey of our mortality.  Extraordinary
> circumstances may do this but even then we are often
> given a  chance to change the seemingly unchangeable path.
> The brick, on the hand,  would likely not choose to be a brick,
> but it has no recourse, no offered  options. Nor does
> the cookie and tea have that choice as they are but the  culinary
> products  of another's whim. Neither can substitute a different path.
> Our avian friends  or their friends of nature cannot truly conduct
> an orchestra of their  choosing for the arias are already written
> and the conductor already holds  His baton. But how fortunate are we!
> We  can choose to go diving into life headlong knowing we may land
> on our feet or  flat upon our backs. We can peel away the siding of
> our juvenile dreams, our  adolescent schemes, allowing
> each to spill into our adult truth, into the  life we have been
> handed, and there the magic begins!
> We mold and we  sculpt. We paint and we write. We tidy
> up some imperfections, leaving a few  to keep us honest.
> And we live! We take each moment into our hands and  we
> breathe of it. We feel the wind and we touch sky. And we thank
> the  master conductor for allowing us to offer our own
> contributions to living and  leaving our imprint on a life that
> we hope will be remembered well.
> How  very fortunate we are, indeed!
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
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