Monday, April 21, 2008

I spit on the world

Today I woke up and spit on the world, because it smiled at me.
I knocked down the door and cursed the ground as it gently let me be.
The sunshine kept me warm and well and the grass just made me smile.
And I kicked the dirt in fury as I walked on for a while.

I did not see the fluffy clouds, though white and full of good.
I only saw the cracked old tree where a baby tree once stood.
"That's an ugly tree." I exclaimed as I picked up its last fruit
I threw it down and smashed it in my anger, with my boot.

The tree looked down in sadness as it waved it branches slowly.
"You took my one and only son, the apple I'd been growing.
And carelessly you took, only thinking of yourself.
Now you please be off, and go live life, in your grandest richest wealth."

I needed nothing really, but I took from what he had.
I realized what I'd done just then and I dropped my head, so sad.
The day would not get better, the suns hot rays would never fade.
Then the tree that I had wronged reached out, and with his branches gave me shade.


Monday, April 7, 2008

What happens when I speak Chinese and you speak Spanish? How will we ever communicate with each other? 
I don't know what you're saying!
I hear you.
I see that you mean well. 
Your expressions are nice.
I just don't understand you.
I guess I'll take some Spanish classes. It just can't hurt.

"We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly."
-Sam Keen




Two mice

Matilda the mouse lived in a house 
On the edge of a trickeling brook. 
She worried each day
That it would wash away 
And Mike would be swept off the roof.

She swept her house by the stream all day
All the while not knowing that soon
Her mouse house would be
A big pile of debris
And Mike would be mad around noon.

Her brother was coming to visit
And he carried three very good things.
Some wood for a heat
Some cheddar to eat
And horse shoes to work on his rings.

Her brother saw the disaster left
And in sheer disbelief his voice sqeaked.
"Sweet sister!" he screamed, 
"Your house is downstream!
 Who's caused this most terrible leak?"

The water has taken my home now.
Now I don't know where you will find rest.
Please stay here and eat, 
I'll cook us some meat, 
The food 'round here's better than best.

Now Ms. Mouse had a sister that loved 
To quarrel with her mother all day.
She cry with a tissue
And longed for an issue 
To pass all the long day away.

to be continued...

Millions of Moments

I often live for a moment. A small piece in time when everything goes my way, no one talks behind my back. No one corrects me, and I never hurt anyone's feelings. I feel important, loved, and motivated. All that I want to be, I am. It's these moments that I am thankful. I learn good feelings, and then I tuck them away down deep so I can pull them out later when I need them so desperately. 
I often live for another moment. A moment when time freezes faster than air out of the lungs, and eternity agrees to my wishes. I stand there in awe, and I observe the world. I notice the spec and the hole and the ant carrying his bread. I see the misplaced child. I see the unspoken words, and I read the faces of hurting people. 
I often live for a moment. A moment when what I do matters. It may not be seen by anyone, or known by a single soul as long as my life continues, but the Creator knows. So in that moment, I chose truth, I chose real instead of plastic. I chose a genuine frown to a fake smile. I choose grace, even though it may be impossible to give real grace with a genuine laugh. I'll give what I have, and I'll mean it. I choose closed. Life is not an open book. Sure, I'm writing it, but that doesn't mean everyone gets to read it. Perhaps what is on page 10 is only for me and the author.
I often live for final moment. A moment when life stops. When all that reality promises fails.  I know this moment is the battery of my clock, so it keeps ticking, motivating me to be all that I am today, since it will be too late to set back the time when tomorrow's alarm rings.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Beautiful Rain


The rain is coming in the distance, and what is the grass doing? Is it hiding? Is it shuttering and hunching down, scared of the drops? No. It is begging for rain, "Pick me!" it says. 

Do you like rain? Many people compare the metaphor of rain and sunshine to good days and bad days. After rain comes sunshine. True. But, isn't it also true then, to say that after sunshine comes rain? 

Why do so many appreciate the sunshine and not the rain? Sunshine is "perfect" weather so they say. To me, rain is much more beautiful than sunshine. Every raindrop is different. Each a different size, and never falling in the same place as another. Rain has character. Rain brings green and fresh and clean and wet and color and steam and life, and it washes away the old and dirty. Sunshine seems to dry things up, burn them, and even though we need a balance of sunshine and rain to make things grow, rain gives us swimming, so I'm siding with my friendly little showers. :)

Break out those rain boots people and start praying. I don't know about you, but I can't wait to splash in my next puddle!



Thursday, April 3, 2008

Don't be a soul waster

There is always a moment.  A moment when we cover our tracks and cross our fingers. A moment when we get home and fall down from the exhaustion of a long day. There's a moment when we get out of town and leave everything, not telling a single soul on purpose where we are going and taking extreme care to leave the map at home. We live for that moment to be lost together. A moment to love and fall in love. With each other, with nature.  A moment to dream of stars and the universe and the color of the grass. A moment to talk to God and listen to his gentle whisper. A moment of imaginary places and believable dreams where we can talk about our future. A place of reckless emotions and wild spirits. There is always a moment.

Be a free soul. Chase it. Do you want it? Go get it. We live in the most affluent society in the history of the entire World. Are you living in it with all the passion your body contains?

No one in the world is like you. Don't you find that incredible?
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