The Power of Words
favorite poems
Oh, a trouble’s a ton, or a trouble’s an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn’t the fact that you’re hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?
-Edmund Vance Cooke
HOW DID YOU DIE?
The poem written by Cooke is a gem in our world today. It poses three different questions, in 24 lines, the first being the one above. How did you take the trouble? The difficult situation? How did you handle it, how did you react?
We all have different answers, but if we’re really looking up, really looking ahead, we don’t mind the trouble, not truly. Oh sure, our fallen humanity will feel the urge to complain and mutter about how terrible we have it. But you have control over that.
You control you.
And no one else.
So, how did you take it?
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Edmund Vance Cooke
Poets lives a tragic life. Tragic lives are indeed something filled with prose-worthy experiences. It’s a life filled with stories that should not be forgotten.
There are lives all around us filled with stories that should not be forgotten.
Consequently I find writing about things that should not be forgotten to be full of joy and life. There is something about learning about the past that fleshes the world out a little more, that speaks to who you are, who your family is, and what the world has been through.
History is the lesson we must all learn from, yet few realize that it is with utmost neglect that we treat the wisdom of our forefathers.
History is important, it is vital, yes, yet there is only so much to be learned from the history books, only so much to be taught from the woes and tragedies of the poets. For they are as mere men as you and I, perhaps more intellectual, yes, but finite men all the same.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They speak from pain, and heartbreak yes. But there are those who understand that beyond the pain and heartbreak is the promise of another life
The true poets weave truth into their words, tinge their lines with hope. They portray the world in the way it is, not the way they wish it would be.
But they add the promises we’ve been given, and lift the spirits to the heavens where one day we will need no well-wishes, for we shall be well all the day.
The soul is not something that will perish as the body does in the earthly realm, and never again be filled with life.
It is for this reason that we speak with such earnest to those who refuse to hear. Because, as the poets say: “Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.” The soul does not die, like the body does.
The soul lives on, and regardless of who you are, and what you’ve done, you can only live in one of two places.
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
Rudyard Kipling
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
Your mind is a powerful thing, you can use for either good or evil. A single circumstance can be shifted, a force and flood of human emotions held back, with a thought.
We often forget what an asset we hold in our hands, well within our reach. Our minds, when trained, when disciplined, can bend towards things higher, things hopes for, yet not seen.
The mind can transform an individual. The mind and heart, two of the most powerful houses of thought and feeling…
What happens when you train your mind and protect your heart? When you wake up in the morning, and make a decision to follow the Lord’s precepts, when you decide that you are the one holding power over your thoughts. Instead of your thoughts holding power over you.
And what happens when you follow through? When you obey biblical commands, and take it all in stride?
How Did You Die?
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble’s a ton, or a trouble’s an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn’t the fact that you’re hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?You are beaten to the earth? Well, well what’s that?
Come up with a smiling face.
It’s nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there — that’s disgrace.
The harder you’re thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn’t the fact that you’re licked that counts,
It’s how did you fight — and why?And though you be done to the death, what then?
Edmund Vance Cooke
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he’s slow or spry,
It isn’t the fact that you’re dead that counts,
But only how did you die?