If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,but do not have love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,
10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears.
11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.
12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
When little, she was told
that being tall is good-
tall girls are closest to heaven.
And she wanted to grow ever since,
pick the fruit from the top of the tree,
touch the birds,
tickle the clouds,
look into airplanes,
and sit on the moon.
As she grew tallest, she saw
that the more she grew, the farther she was
Ever since, she has dreamed of the other,
whose chest would fit her chin,
and whose fingerprints would meet hers,
like life inside a growing nut.
Mirror, mirror , on the wall,
Who’s the tallest of them all?
The sky has fallen ill tonight
The shadows draw dark circles
Around the clouds
And the wind is pale,
There’s a temporary thaw
But it’s red.
And I’m afraid
The sky will bleed to death.
You do not know that I have a blog, because there are so many things that you do not know about your teachers….And it is better this way, because you’ll may never know the contents of this letter.
Many educators pass through their lives and careers with remembrance of students who embraced the flow of teaching, nurtured their great gifts and blossomed their talents.
Teaching can be a thankless job,but I am thankful for your hard work, perseverance, and constant good manners which spring from a good education and Common Sense.
May you find success on your path to knowledge and happiness in personal life. May God guard your every step and hold your hand when you are in need.
Make good use of all the great qualities I am deeply convinced you harbor. Keep your modesty and serenity at all times and DO good deeds in your future career.
You are motivation and hope for a tired teacher.
All the best,
This was an attempt at happiness,
A feeble thread
And a soundless firework.
With roads diverging
After sudden crossroads.
A lingering scent
In the clothes no longer worn
Locked in boxes no longer opened,
Under piles of heavy weight
To make it die,
Out of all our senses
The smell is the toughest.
Today we shouldn’t talk
We should whisper
Make sure the words don’t wither
From too much noise
And don’t scorch
From the heat of our tongues.
Our voices should linger
Between one mouth and the other
Linking lips into invisible threads
Because today is the kiss we waited
Decades to gives birth to.