I Have Resisted Change

A Sunday Poem

I have resisted change with all my will …

Cried out to life, “Pass by life and leave me still.”

Bit I have found as I have trudged time’s track

That all my wishing will not hold life back.

I cannot bid the merest moment “stay.”

So finding I have no power to change change

I have changed my self. Adn this is strange.

But I have found when I let change come,

The very change that I was fleeing from

Has often held the good I had prayed for,

And I was not the less for change, but more.

Once I accepted life and was not loathe to change

I found change was the seed of growth.

~ James Dillet Freeman, American Unity minister, author and poet (1912-2003)

The Fighter

I fight a battle every day
Against discouragement and fear;
Some foe stands always in my way,
The path ahead is never clear!
I must forever be on guard
Against the doubts that skulk along;
I get ahead by fighting hard,
But fighting keeps my spirit strong.

I hear the croakings of Despair,
The dark predictions of the weak;
I find myself pursued by Care,
No matter what the end I seek;
My victories are small and few,
It matters not how hard I strive;
Each day the fight begins anew,
But fighting keeps my hopes alive.

My dreams are spoiled by circumstance,
My plans are wrecked by Fate or Luck;
Some hour, perhaps, will bring my chance,
But that great hour has never struck;
My progress has been slow and hard,
I’ve had to climb and crawl and swim,
Fighting for every stubborn yard,
But I have kept in fighting trim.

I have to fight my doubts away,
And be on guard against my fears;
The feeble croaking of Dismay
Has been familiar through the years;
My dearest plans keep going wrong,
Events combine to thwart my will,
But fighting keeps my spirit strong,
And I am undefeated still!

~ Samuel Ellsworth Kiser, American poet (1862-1942)

Worth While

It is easy enough to be pleasant

When life flows by like a song,

But the man worth while is the one who will smile

When everything goes dead wrong.

For the test of the heart is trouble,

And it always comes with the years,

And the smile that is worth the praises of earth

Is the smile that shines through tears.

It is easy enough to be prudent

When nothing tempts you to stray,

When without or within no voice of sin

Is luring your soul away;

But it’s only a negative virtue

Until it is tried by fire,

And the life that is worth the honour on earth

Is the one that resists desire.

By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,

Who had no strength for the strife,

The world’s highway is cumbered to-day—

They make up the sum of life;

But the virtue that conquers passion,

And the sorrow that hides in a smile—

It is these that are worth the homage on earth,

For we find them but once in a while.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox, American poet (1850-1919)

The Feeling of Happiness Poem

“Good day,
I read with great interest this article about happiness. I would like to send a poem that I wrote some time ago. I’m not a Writer, which you will notice on the poem, but everything I write, what moves me in poem form.
With best wishes from Buten-Bremen.
Brigitte Stürmer”

Thank you, Brigitte, your poem is beautiful!

Dieses Gefühl von Glück

Kennst du dieses Gefühl von Glück,

diese Momente zwischen der Mühsal des Lebens,

diese schwebenden Augenblicke

Lichtpunkte am Himmel?

Dieses Gefühl von Glück,

wenn Meeresbrandung deine Ohren berauscht

wenn der Geruch von Seetang in dich strömt

wenn der Wind deine Haut umfängt?

Dieses Gefühl von Glück,

wenn Vollendung und Schönheit

in den Abgrund dich reißen,

wenn du halten willst,

was nicht zu halten ist?

Dieses Gefühl von Glück,

wenn Weinen und Lachen dich sprengen wollen,

dein Körper zum Theater wird,

alle Gefühle gleichzeitig die Bühne betreten,

wenn die Stille mit wirbelnden Kobolden Purzelbäume schlägt,

wenn Glück die Fassung verliert?

Dieses Gefühl von Glück,

wenn Luft zur samtigen Materie wird

durch deine Hände fließt

deinen Körper berührt

ihn umschmeichelt

sich löst

an anderer Stelle wieder verfängt?

Dieses Gefühl von Glück,

wenn ein Mensch dir begegnet

der deinen Akkord zu spielen versteht

wenn ein Lächeln nur dir gehört?

Kennst du dieses Gefühl von Glück

frei zu sein unter dem Blau des Himmels

im Augenblick des Alles Seins?

This feeling of happiness

Do you know this feeling of happiness,
these moments between the hardships of life,
these floating moments
Points of light in the sky?

This feeling of happiness,

if your ears surf intoxicated
if the smell of seaweed flowing into you
when the wind envelops your skin?

This feeling of happiness,

if perfection and beauty
tear you into the abyss,
if you want to keep,
what not to keep?

This feeling of happiness,

Tears and laughter when you want to blow up,
Your body is the theater,
all feelings simultaneously enter the stage,
when the silence beats with whirling goblins somersaults,
if luck loses composure?

This feeling of happiness,

when air is used to velvety matter
flows through your hands
your body touches
it flatters
elsewhere again caught?

This feeling of happiness,

when a man meets you
of your chord playing to understand
only when a smile is to you?

Do you know this feeling of happiness
to be free under the blue sky
Everything at the moment of being?

Brigitte Stürmer

English translation of the poem is done by Google Translate

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

Chapter I

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I’m lost… I’m helpless.

It isn’t my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter II

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I’m in the same place.

But it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter III

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in. It’s a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault, I get out immediately.

Chapter IV

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter V

I walk down another street.

Poem by Portia Nelson from her book “There is a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery”

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