////

 

what kind of movement brings the past to us now?

that window to your left that looks at the universal —

but, you should know, it’s not as far away as you make it out to be.

 

have you ever watched a day become a year so quickly?

i’ve seen centuries unfold in the splatter of raindrops —

and it all happened so much quicker than you would want to believe.

 

if the lake became dry could you possibly remember?

there were stones attached to my ankles as i fell —

and i remember when it occurred to me that i forgot how to forget.

 

did you actually see the stars above her head?

they were not stars; i saw them as little bits of fire —

but there were a thousand in the sky and a thousand in her eyes.

 

how did the air feel as it moved through the trees?

i became an eagle in its nest overlooking the valley —

but it was warm and silent and the world was calm before me.

 

what about the mornings descending from the mountains?

they are a memory that i never experienced —

so please let me land on the quiet waters.

 

will you ever be the same?

not now, but i will return soon —

i am on the mountain, and it is exactly what i need.

///

this all reminds me of how i felt as a child. i never liked it then, and i definitely don’t now.

//

 

the brightness is beyond the window sills, and it

moves, moves,

moves through the leaves and along the trees.

but here, and in the carpet and in the silence of a still room,

it is darker and duller, and i can make sense of it all.

/

 

we believe in the pleasant and the plain,

in the harvest come of filthy grain.

crumpled leaves and broken ground;

we see…

 color when we sleep, color in the sound.

in brittle glass

i went home for thanksgiving, and i took my girlfriend with me. the trip made me appreciate my family so much. it made me realize that there are things i’ve been missing out on ever since i left. when i left home after the summer, there were things i stopped thinking about. it was good to think of those things again.

my family is a whole lot of fun to be around. i miss spending holidays with them. my dogs are the best. my grandfather is incredible, and i had such an enjoyable time with him while i was home.

i’m excited for christmas. lately i’ve been terrified of letting it slip by without my full embracement of it. with school it’s hard to feel the “spirit” of it. but i’ve determined in my mind that this christmas will feel like christmas. i’m pretty sure this means that i’ll be spending far too much time at malls, bookstores, and the third street promenade. but nothing sounds better. so here’s to squeezing everything possible out of this season

and here’s this that has nothing to do with any of that.

i was wrapped in innocence; i was wrapped in brittle glass.

i was broken by the winds that blew; they blew from the broken past.

i found my home in consequence; i found my home in grief.

i was found at peace with the graves; i was found with my belief.

i heard the sounds of penitance; i heard the sounds of break.

i was heard among the hills i walked; i walked to feel awake.

i passed glances with the golden fields; i passed glances with release.

i was passed until i saw my hands; i saw them in the breeze.

continuing on

i’m sitting here wishing i had something to write about. i almost don’t want to come on here anymore because of my upsettingly infrequent posts. i don’t really know what my deal is, but hopefully i’ll bounce back.

i know that my parents would like me to write a lot more on here, and my girlfriend too. so this one goes out to them.

the good news is that i’ve been reading a new book, and i’ve decided to start a new writing project.

it’s not that i won’t still write on here (i will). and it’s not that i don’t want to have writing for people to read (i do).

so this is my attempt to keep myself going. i’m running with the idea that this is enough.

i asked for the sun

it’s been extremely difficult for me to write lately. there’s just been too much going on. i’ve realized i need to do it for myself though. so hopefully this will get me going again.

i spent two-hundred days at the bottom of the sea,

and the gods of the depths never came for me.

but the God of the sky never knew my deeds,

and the God in my heart always knew my needs.

i felt for the sand that sat beneath my head,

and the rocks that i grabbed were my jagged bed.

but the current passed by like the blowing breeze,

and it blew through the corral and it blew through the seas.

i sunk with the water through the frozen ground,

and i laid in a grave where i heard no sound.

but the waves brought a weight that i couldn’t bear,

and it pressed on my heart and it tore at my hair.

i asked for the sun every single day,

and i begged for its heat in the bitter clay.

but the words that i spoke fell into my throat,

and i never could believe they would never float.

in seas, in dying seas we fall to never rise again.

the light will find the darkness when, in darkness, we descend.

if we keep our eyes closed

 

all we are has come upon us now.

from the dried out leaves that press death upon the air,

to the silent ponds that will grow with the grey sky.

 

suddenly, it all meant emptiness.

from the soil that broke open with the beat of rain,

to the hush that said only the trees have voices.

 

back then we were unable to believe.

we saw hills but never mountains, clouds but never sky.

we were convincing when we said our days would not end.

so we tried hard to tear up roots from the watered ground,

and we placed ourselves in the lake to float calmly along.

 

we have finally found it within ourselves.

now, we know there is a light that our eyes cannot see,

there is a wind only known by the shaking of the leaves,

there is a sound that lives within the rocks and the trees.

if we keep our eyes closed the sky will disappear.

 

 

this is everything we know, everything we fear.

good God

it’s good to hear words that were meant for you. it gets you to thinking that you’re not that far from where you need to be.

today i moved a step closer to wrapping my mind around the concept that the God of this world is so much bigger than the God of my notions.

…and i realized yet again that i don’t give him enough credit. i’m coming to grips with the fact that i never will.

blank sheets

 

we were frames upon the wall,

battered  and broken.

we danced small shadows in the empty hall.

we resonate with every step.

oh our sordid songs!

we only listened when our father wept.

we ran fingers through our hair,

tangled and begrimed.

it dripped with depictions of our despair.

out beyond the shattered glass.

such frantic movement!

we saw the world and it moved far too fast.

we lie upon our bed,

lonely and silent.

we see blank sheets where he once laid his head.

 

…jeez. i’ve got nothing these days.