One’s Reality

 

 

One’s reality is what it is

Even though it is not

And if that person could really know

Perhaps, he would be shocked.

 

In reality,

Reality is a person’s reality

And this is the reality that person has

Though viewed subjectively.

 

Life is one’s perception:

Perception based on interpretation

Looking through one’s own lens

Coming to one’s conclusion.

 

And this is one’s reality

Which does not always conform

To what many people may consider

To be their subjective norm.

 

 

 

My reality may differ from yours

But it is mine nevertheless

And if it is working out for me

Then for me it is best.

 

My mother was on a bus

While sitting in her wheel chair

Safe and sound in a seniors’ home

And I was also there.

 

She was particularly alarmed

At how the driver was driving,

This was recklessly, to say the least,

And my mother wasn’t joking.

 

I calmly said to my mother,

“One thing I will ask you to do.

Wait till the bus stops before getting off,

That’s all I ask of you.”

 

Yes, I went along with her

Because it was her reality,

That’s how it seemed to her at that time

And she was not being funny.

 

  

In reality, her reality

Was that she was riding on a bus,

And she could not in reality understand

Why the driver was in such a rush.

 

This also holds for mad people

Or rather, the mentally insane,

But they should not be taken lightly-

They are not playing a game.

 

In reality, it’s their reality-

That is how it appears to them,

They need a secure and safe place

To help solve their problem.

 

But for every one of us

Whether considered sane or insane,

In reality, reality is our reality

Whatever we may claim.

 

Stewart Russell © May 29, 2023

 

I know A Man

 

I know a man who died

Having made out his will

And today he is forever alive

And he executes it still.

 

A will becomes active

At the benefactor’s death

And he knows absolutely nothing

Since he is at rest.

 

He knows not

If his request is honoured

Since he has been interred

And is six feet under.

 

He makes up the will

But cannot execute it,

Somebody that he has chosen

Directs its edict.

 

This is the norm

As it relates to any will,

It happened in the distant past

And is occurring still.

 

Well, with one exception

And this is a fact,

A man was actually put to death

And he came back.

 

He had made out a will

And put it in his father’s hand

And he returned from the dead

As was his father’s plan.

 

 

He is the testator

And also, the executor,

The author of eternal salvation

And my Saviour.

 

I know a man who died

Having made out his will

And today he is forever alive

And he executes it still.

 

The whosoever will

He has included in his will

And invites all to come to him-

Come now as he bids.

 

Everyone that does

Instantly becomes an heir,

An heir of eternal salvation-

The Bible makes it clear.

 

All because one man

Wrote and executed his will,

Jesus is that testator in whom

His will is fulfilled.

 

 

I was dead, he says

But am alive forevermore

And if one seeks eternal life

I alone am the door.

 

If any man enters by him

He shall be saved,

This is the promise to all

Who eternal life crave.

 

I know a man who died

Having made out his will

And today he is forever alive

And he executes it still.

 

Yes, Jesus bequeathed it

He died to enforce it 

He ever lives to ensure it:

Salvation's edict!

We are his beneficiaries

He is our benefactor

Signed with his shed blood,

Jesus, our Saviour.

 

Stewart Russell © March 7, 2024

 

On Our Way Home

 

 

We’re on our way home

There’s no turning back,

From the moment we’re born

That is the hard fact.

 

From the new born babe

When it draws its first breath

Life’s journey is begun

On its way to death.

 

Birth is the beginning

And that’s when we rejoice

But sooner or later will be

The grim reaper’s voice.

 

The victim won’t hear it

Since he would be already gone

But regarding them that remain,

They would be forewarned.

 

We’re on our way home

From the moment we’re born,

Call me morbid if you must

But this is the norm.

 

“Born to die” says the epitaph

Inscribed on a tombstone

Verifying the fact

We are on our way home.

 

This may sound purposeless

But it need not be so

If the Christ I have come to know

You also know.

 

It must not be an obsession

But we should be aware

And for that eventual homegoing

We ought to be prepared.

 

To live without Christ

Means the worst death to die,

This may sound paradoxical

But let me explain why.

 

Without Christ we are dead

In our trespasses and sin

And so, we die without hope

If we never come to him.

 

Philippians 1:21

 

However, if while I live,

In my heart, the Lord Christ reigns,

Then “for to me to live is Christ,

And to die is gain.”

 

So, I do not fear my homegoing

As much as I did before

For in Christ I now live

And my election is sure.

 

Positively respond to his call

If you hear him today,

Right now, he may be calling you,

Please don’t turn him away!

 

You are on your way home

And there’s no turning back,

From the moment you were born

That was the hard fact.

 

Stewart Russell © July 28, 2021

 

Our Trouble Source,

 

 

The source of our trouble

Is a four-letter word

Sometimes expressed as two

Or even one.

 

Sometimes “my” is added-

That’s in its longest form

But regarding the one mostly used,

“I” is the norm.

 

By now you have it:

It is I, Me and Myself,

And we three are about wealth

If it ruins our health.

 

 

 

 

The “I” look for number 1

And number 1 is Me,

Just Me and Myself

And that is all the “I” see.

 

Therein I tell you

Is the source of our trouble,

A myopic view-

Sorry to burst your bubble.

 

I shaded my eyes

And what did I see?

I will be honest with you…

I only saw “Me”.

 

Maybe you were there

And maybe you were not,

But it really doesn’t matter

“Me” is all I have got.

 

 

 

So, I am never short of trouble

As long as I’ve got Me,

It’s Me, Myself and I-

I always have all three.

  

We name the devil

And we give him the blame

But the truth be told,

It is these three that reign.

 

Me, Myself and I:

That’s the source of our trouble,

Not Satan, the devil,

Now I have burst your bubble.

 

He is our cop-out

Since we must blame someone,

“The devil made me do it.”

It is time that was gone.

 

 

Me, Myself and I

Honestly look at yourself!

That’s what I am doing now-

Not at you but Myself.

 

Stewart Russell © October 16, 2020