Really, school pictures aren't usually my thing...this one is priceless.
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Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
or yours
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle or the air.
The plate broke,
the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over one by one.
That pot which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one rolled round and round and round
all through winter until it was only the powder of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.
And that clock whose sound was the voice of our lives,
the secret thread of our weeks,
which released one by one,
so many hours for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also fell
and its delicate blue guts vibrated among the broken glass
its wide heart unsprung.
Life goes on
grinding up glass,
wearing out clothes
making fragments
breaking down forms
and what lasts through time is like an island
on a ship in the sea, perishable
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.
Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.
Our Friends
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Ode to Broken Things by Pablo Neruda
Things get broken
at home
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
or yours
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle or the air.
The plate broke,
the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over one by one.
That pot which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one rolled round and round and round
all through winter until it was only the powder of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.
And that clock whose sound was the voice of our lives,
the secret thread of our weeks,
which released one by one,
so many hours for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also fell
and its delicate blue guts vibrated among the broken glass
its wide heart unsprung.
Life goes on
grinding up glass,
wearing out clothes
making fragments
breaking down forms
and what lasts through time is like an island
on a ship in the sea, perishable
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.
Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.
How I see it...
People are often unreasonable and self-centered
Forgive them anyway
If you are kind,
people may accuse you of ulterior motives
Be kind anyway
If you are honest,
people may cheat you
Be honest anyway
If you find happiness,
people may be jealous
Be happy anyway
The good you do today
may be forgotten tomorrow
Do good anyway
Give the world the best you have
and it may never be enough
Give your best anyway
For you see, in the end,
it is between you and God
It was never between you and them anyway.
--Mother Theresa
Forgive them anyway
If you are kind,
people may accuse you of ulterior motives
Be kind anyway
If you are honest,
people may cheat you
Be honest anyway
If you find happiness,
people may be jealous
Be happy anyway
The good you do today
may be forgotten tomorrow
Do good anyway
Give the world the best you have
and it may never be enough
Give your best anyway
For you see, in the end,
it is between you and God
It was never between you and them anyway.
--Mother Theresa
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