NAPKIN WORDS #23 2010

1. IMPOSSIBLE AND POSSIBLE
No matter how much one may study,
one will never be able to gain all
knowledge.

What one can achieve is getting
close to another person’s heart and
learning to know all that it holds,
all that lives within!

2. NYC TRACKS OF LIFE
Until you find the love of your life,
for whatever reason, the ride of time
is always the crowded local, where
you must always stand.

Once you have found the true love
of your life, the ride of time is a
luxurious express where seats
abound!

3. UNDERSTANDING THE PAST
The wisest, the kindest, the most
loving and generous life of so many
generations of family, all must pass
from here to there.

It is left to us to shine their light,
tell their story!

4. WIZARDRY
The magic of the mind is not about
thinking of an idea.

It is what you do with the thought
that you had, how you go about
making that idea into reality.

Think of Confucius (541-479 B.C.),
Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-
1564 A.D.), Rudyard Kipling (1865-
1936 A.D.), Bill Gates (1955-).

Just a few of the millions of people
from all countries, all cultures, who
took their ideas and brought it to
fruition so both they and the world
benefited.

Many of those who had ideas and
created great things, are unknown.

We don’t know the name of the
Chinese person who invented silk,
porcelain, noodles, chop sticks, and
so much more.

So take a moment and do something
with your idea. Know you are very
much part of easing the future!

AN OLD MONK IN A FOREST OF TREES

Afraid of darkness, night creeps away
towards light, this has always been the
way.

Each beam of moonlight, becomes a
darkness seen.

Into a cave, hidden deeply amid rough
toughened trees, the hushing of woods,
a wise old monk entered, laid himself
down, smiled and prepared to die.

Yet not too swiftly he though, for happiness
takes its time to pass and he was content to
bide his time. He understood, that every
degree of regret is nothing but a wiser
understanding of failure. Let his breath
pause at its time, he would wait.

His ocean was a forest of trees, and in
the gentlest of breezes, he heard leaves
sing in their ripples, dance to their sway,
the ebb and toil of ancient bark. Soon, he
thought to himself, the last colors of October
morn shall fall, sink beneath the earth, to
turn to food, to become a sage gasp of all
that has passed.

Whomever enslaved their time, has never
conquered eternity, nor ever will.

Such was his passage in a forest of trees!

by Edward Hunter