The Man Who Thinks He Can.

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't.
If you'd like to win, but think you can't
It's almost a cinch you won't.
If you think you'll lose, you've lost,
For out in the world we find
Success beings with a fellow's will;
It's all in the state of mind.

If you think you're outclassed, you are:
You've got to think high to rise.
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.
Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can.

-Anyonomous

Heaven's Grocery Store.

I was walking down life's highway
a long, long time ago.
One day I saw a sign that read,
"HEAVEN'S GROCERY STORE."
As I got a little closer, the door opened wide,
and I found myself standing inside.

I saw a host of ANGELS.
They were standing everywhere.
One handed me a basket and said,
"My Child, shop with care."

Everything a human needed
was in that grocery store.
And if you couldn't carry it all,
you could come back the next day for more.

First, I got some PATIENCE.
LOVE was in the same row.
Further down was UNDERSTANDING,
you need that everywhere you go.

I got a box or two of WISDOM,
a bag or two of FAITH.
I just couldn't miss the HOLY GHOST,
for it was all over the place.

I stopped to get some STRENGTH and COURAGE
TO HELP ME RUN THIS RACE.
By then my basket was getting full,
but I remembered I needed some GRACE.

I didn't forget SALVATION,
for SALVATION was free.
So I tried to get enough of that
to save both you and me.

Then I started up to the counter
to pay my grocery bill.
For I thought I had everything
to do the MASTER'S will.

As I went up the aisle, I saw PRAYER;
and I just had to put that in,
for I knew when I stepped outside,
I would run into sin.

PEACE and JOY were plentiful;
they were last on the shelf.
SONG and PRAISE were hanging near,
so I just helped myself.

Then I said to the angel,
"Now, how much do I owe?"

He smiled again and said, "MY CHILD,
GOD PAID YOUR BILL A LONG, LONG TIME AGO."

-Ron DeMarco

The Song of The Whale.

Heaving mountains in the sea,
Whale, I heard you
Grieving.

Great whale, crying for your life,
Crying for your kind, I know
How we would use
Your dying.

Lipstick for our painted faces
Polish for our shoes.

Tumbling mountain in the sea,
Whale, I hear you
Calling

Bird-high notes, soaring:
At their edge a tiny drum
Like a heartbeat

We would make you
Dumb

In the forest of the sea,
Whale, I heard you
Singing

Singing to your kind
We'll never let you be
Instead of your life we choose

Lipstick for our painted faces,
Polish for our shoes.

There Is No Indispensible Man.

Sometime when you're feeling important;

Sometime when your ego's in bloom

Sometime when you take it for granted

You're the best qualified in the room,

Sometime when you feel that your going

Would leave an unfillable hole,

Just follow these simple instructions

And see how they humble your soul;

Take a bucket and fill it with water,

Put your hand in it up to the wrist,

Pull it out and the hole that's remaining

Is a measure of how you will be missed.

You can splash all you wish when you enter,

You may stir up the water galore,

But stop and you'll find that in no time

It looks quite the same as before.

The moral of this quaint example

Is do just the best that you can,

Be proud of yourself but remember,

There's no indispensable man.

-Saxon N. White Kessinger

The Difference he made.

Amidst the morning mist of the swift returning tide
I set out on my daily run, my walkman on my side.
Lost within my private world apart from cares and woes
I ran along the moistened shore, the sand between my toes.

In the distance, I saw a boy, as busy as can be.
He was running, stooping, picking up, and tossing in the sea.
Just what he threw, I couldn't tell, I looked as I drew near.
It seemed to be a rock or shell - as I approached him I could hear:

"Back you go, where you belong. Your safe now hurry home.
Your family's waiting for you little starfish, hurry on!"
It seemed the evening tide had washed the starfish on the shore,
And the swift receding water left a thousand there or more.

And this self-appointed savior, was trying one-by-one
To toss them back into the sea, against the racing sun.
I saw his plight was hopeless, that most of them would die.
I called out from my private world, "Hey Kid, why even try?"

"Must be at least a thousand here, strewn along the beach,
And even if you had the time, most you'll never reach.
You really think it makes a difference, to waste your time this way?"
And then I paused and waited, just to hear what he would say.

He stooped and took another, and looked me in the eye.
"It makes a difference to this one sir, this starfish will not die!"
With that, he tossed the little life, back where there was hope.
He stooped to take another. I could tell this was no joke.

The words that he spoke to me cut like a surgeon's knife.
Where I saw only numbers, he saw only life.
He didn't see the multitude of starfish on the sand.
He only saw the little life he held there in his hand.

He didn't stop to argue, to prove that he was right.
He just kept tossing starfish in the sea with all his might.
So I too stooped, and I picked up, and I tossed into the sea,
And I thought, just what a difference, that this boy has made in me.


-Randy Poole