take

When I think back on high school, on the friends I had and such it doesn’t so much feel like moments I remember in my past but more like a portion of life, a time period I could easily return to. Which is obviously not the case but it doesn’t feel lost, doesn’t feel forgotten; just feels like vital moments that were once My Life. Moments that are just caught in the back of my mind. Moments I could return to at any...well moment in present time and live again. Not so much the case really. High school is over. Individuals who I once knew as the closest people to myself, often closer than my family even, are now just voices on the line from time.....to time. What do you say when you’ve got nothing to really SAY to them? What peace can you bring to lives of those who you do not really know so much anymore? And what for the ones who you know, who you’ve loved, who you trust and rely on. What for those who have to be let go, for one reason or another aside from time?
How do you alter the status of a relationship minus...
1) guilt
2) sadness
3) anxiety
4) fear
5) regret
You pray to God for the words to say, thoughts to inspire, peace to transcend all complication, vision of the BIGGER picture, and the silence of understanding.
Please understand--I haven’t forgotten. I love you very very much and miss you also; there are just things in life that demand a sort of, respect. Not you fault, not mine just lives deciding factors.
But when you’ve been given such a gift of love.
How do distribution and discretion coincide appropriately.

"Worlds Apart" - Jars of Clay

i'm sure this has been asked before, but

can you ever turn the volume up loud enough on the stereo,
ever scream to the point where your lungs are comfortably burning,
every jump and dance and smile and talk at the highest rate of speed
to stomp, deafen, exhaust, blind the thoughts out of your mind?

and which music, exactly, would this sort of instance require?
can you ever drown out the thoughts of an idle mind?

how does anyone really relax?
when do you reach that real moment of self assured security in life,
when is it ever enough?

Sundays

"Ágætis Byrjun" - Sigur Ros

And when my mind is spinning, when thoughts are trailing reason feebly attempting to catch a breath, to breathe, my mind, my heart, my voice it falls to you. Lord.
What am I, alone. Who am I, with all my self, my trails, I fail you. again.
Reverence. Silence. Stillness. I would love to write a story telling enough to inspire...someone other than myself but then I fear it would be with the hopes of satisfaction, to the glory of them, and then I question, myself. How can I? Question that which is so. Is Everything.
As contrary to popular belief as this might be, I see you
in his eyes. In sincerity of a love, never needing, ever seeking, in prayer
in his and mine, family.
In a friend, Faith, of mine, depends, so near to my own, on, Dear Lord how could we, that which, they not See, is all over around IN.
The trees. the air rushing by as I run down, up, around the hills of a place I've been several times before. And it never ceases to amaze, me.
If I sang to you? If I danced all night, day, from the moment I rose til' you put me to sleep--from exhaustion, exultation, Dear Lord to scream your Name in declaration from, to every single inch of this world. This world you created.
Comprehension is really so incomprehensible I can do nothing more, I can do all the more to sing, a song, with words written, on knees bent, face down,
To praise you, Lord, my Father you are.
The reality of this, scares the cynic in me
Lord, I am a child at your feet.

crosswords

there is something to be said,
for the way that the mind tosses about these thoughts
and how they seem to mix with the sounds, the words, the music that escapes
how we've each chosen to believe, been chosen to receive
receive love?
give love?
grace delicately placed, in a saucer on a rainy day
a sip of warmth from a coffee cup, tinged with the hope of indulgence
as it slides down the throat, once clinched with indecision, discerned
straining hearts of those in an attempt to impress
upon
the general public, people pleasers pleasure never felt so
good as a sip of coffee on a cold spring day.
when you expect nothing more than what it is you receive.
expect the unexpected. which is?
could you ride the wave of love if it took you, swept you
suddenly up one day. could you trust the clear, screaming, sudsy water
by faith alone we stand.

Faith alone, as if that were a bad thing.
Faith
alone we are, truly, without-- It.
The belief in something more than the water that runs between
fingers flexing because we tell them so, We
hold the power? To blot out the sun with a mere breath in its direction.
Silly to believe you are It. You, individual, are all in all...
I am nothing without something more, something original
something unseen, because that which is seen is never
enough. Never suffice
to pray, to cry on knees
that bleed, twisted, turned in opposite directions;
to find Faith
to patch the bloody wound and Know;
and Live free of Knowledge consumed, against our better judgementless selves
by Faith we survive
by Faith unseen we thrive
by Faith we are forgiven, for that which I've never, forever felt guilt
For the guiltless devolve to spiritless then heartless eternal faithlessness.

I pray, all the days, for the Faith to walk on water without ever opening my eyes.

I'm only, human.

I write in scattered bits
and pieces fall between the work I'm leaving
undone on the pages before and after the words
often appearing out of nowhere, and nothing
when love is filling
feeling frustrated
those determined to see for what I once was is no longer
apparently I should sit in
sit still, should I
then smile as you slip your hand into mine
close my mind. You've found me and I'm there in her words
before we'd ever met.
Stay awake all night to pick apart into this
and the differences in a rush, in a now and a then
my God this love -- you receive unto me -- I could be silently
sweetly spinning in your world of gold
fiery microscopic
magnificent birthing twine from the folds of my skin
where my belly button hides at times when I forget
naked -- pressed between a mattress and a sheet
a floor and a ceiling, door and a window
trains outside -- people living a few feet below
they are high, they are filling
both smoke tumbling into something
a sky and some prayers --
words bleeding out through my ears and toes and sometimes fingertips
blessed with coagulation, skin and mouth press it together
again a voice, dripping, filled you overflow from
him, his eyes open mine
just like the first time. I can't help but say it.
I would stay awake til' morning
if I wasn't so scared of going insane.

"Tragedy" - Brandi Carlile