A friend sent me this poem. I thought it had a great message.
I hold it true that thoughts are things
They're endowed with bodies and breath and wings
And we send them forth to fill
The world with results, good or ill.
That which we call our secret thought
Speeds forth to fill earth's remotest spot
Leaving its blessings or its woes
Like tracks behind it as it goes.
We build our future, thought by thought
For good or ill, yet know it not.
Yet, so the universe is wrought
Thought is another name for fate:
Choose then thy destiny and wait
For love brings love and hate brings hate
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