This is my journey, my collection of spiritual tid bits, information, interest, insight and sometimes delightfully inspiring articles.
I have put in my stories, well some of them, poems that I have found and loved with a few from my pen and a collection of information packets that I feel will whet the appetite for more.
Most of all though, I hope and wish that I can help others on their journey by finding something here to inform, delight, or inspire.
May the light of knowledge shine bright and shower you with curiosity and love of spirit.
|Posted by Rose powell on October 12, 2011 at 6:45 PM||comments (0)|
This was written by a good friend of mine: Sheena Morrison. I want to share her inspritational writings as I feel they speak to the heart and the soul of a person.
The Best That I can Be
Is to give of ourselves
To give of our heart
To give of our strength
To give of our love
To give of our time
How do you know this to be so?
And this will be so
The Great White Brotherhood
|Posted by Rose powell on April 15, 2010 at 12:46 PM||comments (0)|
This poem was given to me when attending Arthur Findlay college, by Matthew Smith. He had if from the author, a friends daughter. She is now grown and can not remember writing it, so he told us. I feel this is a most beautiful insight into the divide of 'Life" and 'Death" poingnant with insight way beyond the age she was when she wrote it...I give you "Can't You Hear Me Calling by Gemma Goghe, at age 13.
Can't You Hear Me Calling?
Can't you hear me calling
your name upon the breeze?
Can't you feel me watching
as you pray there on your knees?
Can't you sense the lightness,
as now my pain is ceased?
Can't you see the brightness
my true Sourl is now released?
Can't you hear me praying
that we shall meeet again?
Can't your feel the moisture
as my tears touch you as rain?
Can't you sense my happiness
reaching our to you in rays?
Can't you see our memories
of oh! such happy days?
Can't you smell the freshenss
as each new day begins?
Can't you forget anger,
pain, anguish and my sins?
Can't you let go now
and let my soul be free?
As when we meet again my friend
my happiness you will see.
So, can't you hear me calling
Your name upon the breeze?
|Posted by Rose powell on April 13, 2010 at 9:28 PM||comments (0)|
Written by Rose Powell
31st March 2008
If only I had listened
If only I had cared
If only I had known
If only I’d been warned
If only is the statement
Of regret, remorse, and sorrow,
If only is the lesson
That we can learn tomorrow
Tomorrow we can listen
Tomorrow we can care
Tomorrow we will know
Tomorrow we’ve been warned
The lesson is intended
The lesson if it’s learned
Is to bring about self knowledge
of our lives and its events.
So come away and listen,
You can only be yourself
You can only choose from what you have
From lessons learnt before
Don’t blame yourself for wanting
Don’t blame yourself for hurt
The only blame that we can take
Is that we blame ourselves at all.
© Rose Powell 2010. All right reserved.
|Posted by Rose powell on April 13, 2010 at 9:21 PM||comments (2)|
The very first poem I wrote, and 11 years before my feet took me on to my current spiritual path. I look at it now and realize that even then I was destined to do what I am doing now, and loving it too.
by Rose Powell
They tell us of a paradise
Waiting just for us
How do we get there?
Do we fly, drive or bus?
Does it cost us much for entry?
Can we picnic, play and swim?
And will it close at twilight?
And send us out again?
For we are always looking out
For as far as we can see
We are never looking inwards
Where paradise can be
We don't have to pay for entry
Entry always free
We don't have to leave at twilight
This is for eternity
We only have to find it
Directions come like this
We have "Paradise" inside us
Look inside and enter bliss.
Walk in Light
© Rose Powell 2010. All right reserved.
|Posted by Rose powell on April 13, 2010 at 9:13 PM||comments (1)|
From an email sent to me on the 16th December 2006 by a lady called Tammy Ricke, in return for a reading I had done for her the night before.
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.
THE PATH WELL WORN
At tender age we journey out, consumed by youthful vigour.
Enthusiastically we bound ahead, with ego's even bigger,
Than the task ahead, or so we think,
But before too long our hearts will sink,
As the path gets rough and our ego's badly torn.
Now, searching for a foothold and unsure of each new step,
We tread the Path Well Worn.
It's a path forged in hardship, blood, sweat and pain,
And one that grows no easier, despite the ground we gain.
As challenge becomes nightmare, our bodies sore and bruised,
We lose our sense of reason and are lost and confused.
Then when we reach the point of surrender and collapse into a heap,
We begin to understand this Path Well Worn and the secrets it does
For as we lay there all tattered and torn and full of fear,
As though by a miracle, the path ahead begins to clear.
Struggling no more, we are lifted to our feet by a gently unseen
And stretched before us we catch a glimpse of an incredible land.
With rolling hills and valleys and the sun's warm glow to light our
We are filled with love and awe for this miraculous new day.
The Path Well Worn is as real and important as every breath we take.
It is a necessary journey and one we all must make.
At some point in our lives we will find ourselves hurtling towards
But it may help to know of the rainbow that exists beyond the rain,
And to know that countless others have been on the very same journey
And their loving thoughts will guide us with every step we take.