We Make Our Own Luck

On St. Patrick’s Day, you might have found gold

Or at least a quarter on the ground, new or old—

But as we go from day to day

Nothing is coincidence, I say!

The “luck” that comes to us

Was long-planned for us

And we get what we need when we need it

(Even if we don’t see it that way—so be it!)

A higher light defines each soul that comes to earth

No matter who, no matter how; we all have worth—

 

Our lives are spun out on a higher plain

Than what we see in heart or brain;

We have a part to play while living

Whether we are busy in taking or giving—

Our lives touch others as was planned

Far before our birth in this good land.

We do indeed create our luck and circumstances

We can live well or badly, it’s not all chances!

But a divine hand gently guides to be all we are

 

Be it strong or weak, mud or star—

We are here to make our way to a higher ground

Where souls meet in love and hope the world around.

 

 

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