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...who is a POET??...he is...but a dethroned king sitting among the ashes of his palace trying to fashion an image out of the ashes...
..he is the poorest of the poor..yet he carries an oasis in his heart cultivated by the caravan of his thinking...he is a pauper..but he still pretends to be a ' prince ' in the kingdom of his vivid imagination..
..he only sings when he is starving for he cannot sing if his mouth be filled with food...
..he only raises his hand to beg for he cannot raise his hands if it be filled with gold...
..his wealth is his winged imagination and fictive power to think...and ' thinking ' always acts for him as the stumbling stone to ' poetry '... :) ;)
..he is a tree watered by the river of beautiful thoughts..and carries in his heart a lamp unconquered by darkness..
..yes..he seeks NIRVANA..not by counting coins of gold..but in leading his sheep to greener pasture..in seeking a smile from humanity...in putting his child to sleep..and in writing the last line of his poem... :)

...he will be unheard until humans honor the dead and forget the living..for then only upon his ' death '... ' he ' will rule their hearts...and his kingdom will have no ending... :) :) ;)
..TO HAVE GREAT POETS..THERE MUST BE GREAT AUDIENCES TOO... :)

Saturday 26 January 2008

..shun nt d struggle..



A man found a cocoon of an emperor moth. He took it home so that he could watch the moth come out of the cocoon. On the day a small opening appeared, he sat and watched the moth for several hours as the moth struggled to force the body through that little hole.
The moth seemed to be stuck and appeared to have stopped making progress. It seemed as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no farther. The man, in his kindness, decided to help the moth; so he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The moth then emerged easily. But its body was swollen and small, its wings wrinkled and shriveled. The man continued to watch the moth because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to and able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened! In fact, the little moth spent the rest of its life crawling around with a small, swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly. The man in his kindness and haste did not understand that the struggle required for the moth to get through the tiny opening was necessary to force fluid from the body of the moth into its wings so that it would be ready for flight upon achieving its freedom from the cocoon. Freedom and flight would only come after the struggle. By depriving the moth of a struggle, he deprived the moth of health.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we were to go through our life without any obstacles, we would be crippled. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. Give every opportunity a chance, leave no room for regrets, and don't forget the power in the struggle.

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