Sunday, December 16, 2012

Because many of us walk a lonely path, because Victory allies itself with only a few, because Life abides by Murphy's Law and that God is a sadist who places people where they do not belong and often grants them that which they neither need nor want......because Forces are often nothing more than Parasites........

By Kalyani Rajalingham

Strive, My Sweet Child, To Stand
Stand, My Tall Child, To Seize Skill And Strength from this Land
Land, My Cautious Child, To Providence does your Safety owe a Hand
Hand, My Mannered Child, To Others a Voice To Speak and Rise
Rise, My Strong Child, Rise To Command
Command, My Leading Child, To Ease Eyes that but Weep
Weep, My Devoted Child, To Never Let your Memories Sleep
Sleep, My Beautiful Child, To Show your Worthy Smile
Ah! Smile, My Fair Child, For this World is Now in your Hand

‘Tis an open land My Fair Child, tell me not that ye cannot enter!
‘Twill be a harsh path My Poor Child, Tell me not that ye will surrender!
Walk it My Confident Child, May you be Praised for Ages to Come!

‘Tis your Earn’d Victory!
For, ‘Twill Stand through Time in Recorded History!

By Kalyani Rajalingham

My Fair Child,

Go bid farewell to life’s sweet summer blossoms
For Pillows and bobbins may comfort the ear
And man’s eloquence may be a sweet old dear
But they cannot hold your rusty little hands
Or summon your skill or strength to your command

Shake fear, Let it falter to the ground
Upon a thorny road whilst the nightingale chirps above
And the grasshopper labours hard down below
For, soon shall rise the morn from this prais’d old dawn
To guide your eyes through history’s printed and patterned lawn
Seek counsel so that you may creep over weeping foes
In Silence, Turning weakest of flaws through never be it told, never be it mourn’d
Capture every dormant Skill, every Intellect, Talent in your blood burrows
Awaiting not an Aid, but knowledge that Pamper’d you will not be in growth!

What is a Man behind his unkerchief’d neck and mincing stare?
He but Fears, Dreads and Doubts his Willing Hand! Not much prospect,
Though Pompous his air and Arrogance masks his glare
Darling, How blooms a man’s Esteem?
By Finding the Will that cannot be found,
And Becoming the World’s Wear of Envy
Small your lonely hands,
But Let it not tremble as you take this tremendous Oath,
For you are the Guardian of those Worthy of your care
A Force, Seldom Heard, Sometimes Seen, Ofttimes Felt

Be Pure of Mind My Child, But Be not Dumb,
Be Pure of Heart My Sweat, Be not Outsmart`d by the scum
Be Pure of Body My love, But Be not Lonesome

May Perfection, Purity, Beauty and Skill

All merge within you as one 

With my blessings and a kiss for Good Luck,