Whoever said it, its true “best things in life are free.” 🙂
Enjoying the breathtaking view from home. Now how far do we need to go and how much do we need to spend to get a glimpse of heaven? Heaven and happiness after all is as close as your heart is to your body. All you need to do is take a moment to realize. Ah! Heaven so close to home! 🙂
Below is the poem written by an old man who died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town. Nurses found his poem when going through his meagre possessions. Content in the poem is so impressive and inspirational so thought of sharing it here on my blog. Happy Reading!
What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit…with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice…’I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do.
And forever is losing a sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not; lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding; the long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am …As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another
A young boy of 16 with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now…a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at 20 my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25, now I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of 30…My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other; with ties that should last.
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At 50, once more, babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me .My wife is now dead.
I look at the future …I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles; grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass. A young man still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes people -open and see.
Not a cranky old man.
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints; we spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy it less.
We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time; we have more degrees, but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, but more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life; we’ve added years to life, not life to years.
We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space; we’ve done larger things, but not better things.
We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul; we’ve split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We write more, but learn less; we plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait; we have higher incomes, but lower morals; we have more food, but less appeasement; we build more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication; we’ve become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; tall men, and short character; steep profits, and shallow relationships. These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare; more leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are days of two incomes, but more divorce; of fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw away morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer to quiet to kill.
It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom; a time when technology has brought this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to make a difference, or to just hit delete…