oh you know

What was I doing? I was going somewhere with this. Oh, yes.

Sometimes you just have to write it all down. This is this.

Every time I see you, I have the urge to cry. I'm frustrated with myself. How could I have been so weak to fall in love with you and not even know you. I can't believe I did. My brain screams *avoidavoidavoid* and I practically run the the opposite side of the dining hall so you can't see me and then I peruse the drinks long enough to realize I don't want another drink. So I buy an apple and walk in circles in the rain until my head quiets, until I let myself realize this is ok. P, this is ok. You're ok. 


Oh the calming powers of rain and apples. And Jesus.

His name is not Malki-Tzedek (Malchizedek, or Tzedekiah), I can't marry him.  but you could be his friend.

What to pray for. To take him away, or to bring him closer? Who's to know?

You can't solve this
but I had to let it out.

Like Peter Groenwald's song "Wreckage" says. "your thoughts, they are fighting your skin for fresh air."

a sunrise

I want a wooden rocking chair, and a window to watch snow fall out of.

A dog, and a notebook, and a pencil.

And if there is a you, I would love it if you would set me a fire and play the piano.
Or I could play you the cello if you want to take a morning nap.

in process

Sing me a story.
Read me a song.


Your twenty years never yet met love.
(melt away)
Your winter nights never knew cold.
Your summer days were always freezing. 


You always wrote with triumph 
and never painted sorrow.


And purple to you was always blue.
And orange tasted sour.


Silence was your death
but loud was your salvation.
you thought.


Your twenty years sat. watched the world spin.
Every spring, you were not among the flowers, 
nor did you dance in the rain.


You did not try to understand.
And in return we did not understand you.


And sometimes when you slept, 
you dreamed of Januarys and ice houses.


And green was sweet to you. 


Quiet words had no value. 
And yellow was more somber 
than the stars over a famished land.
And orange tasted sour.
But green was sweet to you. 
And Januarys smelled of clay and dust. 


but green was sweet to you.

Five Minute Friday: Beyond

get info here: http://thegypsymama.com/2011/10/five-minute-friday-beyond/

beyond.

go.

I am somewhere, beyond the wail of that train whistle.

all these tracks, I'm somewhere beyond those. mysterious. but you can't be everything you are in this society. We're too concrete for that. too black and white. One day I would like to be lavender, one day lime green. But America is for the real things. the "true" things.

I want people to know that I am not 100 percent concrete. Well no one is. but you can't tell them that. I want to be lavender, floating beyond the whistle of that train. the one that lulls me to sleep, the one that greets me in the morning, that wails softly as I walk to class. I want to be indigo, cerulean. I want to be a wisp of that.

Somewhere beyond is where I am, because I can't be here. can't just be. got to be something. If I have to be pegged, peg me as lavender.

stop.

Thoughts on a Rainy Evening

I know I shall always have the opportunity to be happy*, because I am able to enjoy lots of types of weather. I know that troubles will come. In fact, I am facing a trouble right now. But there should never be despair. I will never have to face hopelessness. There will always be some sort of weather I can delight in. Now, there are some sorts of weather I am not especially fond of, like the hot, muggy days of summer. But there are still things I can take happiness in. The green, the way the grass moves in the wind, the relief of a breeze, the way the sun comes through a window.

I heard that by the end of today we are supposed to receive three inches of rain. It's raining, it's windy, it's cold. I love it. I love rain, because A) it's water falling from the sky. If that's not the coolest thing ever I don't know what is! and B) it is life. All over the world, people need rain. And we are blessed to have it. I feel loved walking through the rain. I like walking through puddles and looking down because it is like I am walking in the sky. I like holding out my hands and watching the water droplets splash into my palms. I like catching water on my tongue. Water straight from the sky, no man-made contraptions in my way. I like watching the puddles fill, the little streams run in street gutters. I like having hair wet from sky water.

I love wind. I feel accomplished walking through wind. I feel strong. Wind reminds me of God's power. Spirit. Breath. I like the sound of wind in the trees and the grass. I like feeling the pressure of the wind against my face. And when you add wind with rain, or snow, or sleet, you get power and life, power and playfulness. It's beautiful.

I love sunshine. I love a blue sky. I like watching the birds fly beneath it, notice the airplanes as they buzz by, I like the light reflecting, shadows of tree limbs on brick buildings, the feel of warm sunshine on my face. I like big puffy clouds. I like reflections of the sky in water. I like watching fall leaves float down beneath blue, winter trees bask in the warm glow, green buds of leaves and awake in spring against that strong blue, the hawks soar on warm currents over the forests in summer.

There is something delightful about snow. It is quiet and unassuming. It is gentle. It's beautiful. The cold that comes with it delights the tip of my nose and my ears. It's lovely to smile and realize my teeth are cold. I like a sunny day with snow reflecting, everything bright and beautiful. I like a cloudy day with snow, everything pale. I like trudging through snow, trying to keep my footing, following footsteps or making my own path. I like catching snowflakes on my mittens or gloves. I like the awakening that comes with a snowflake in the eye.

And when spring comes, the rain comes again. And thunderstorms full of power and joy. And puddles to jump in, and crisp mornings and warm afternoons. And soft breezes.

Delightful things!

I think sometimes it is necessary to wonder. Sometimes I think it is necessary to enjoy having your hair be wet all day, because of the rain. Sometimes I think it is necessary to enjoy the things you cannot control, the things that are more powerful than any human. Sometimes I think it is necessary to buy ice cream and walk in the rain while eating it, even if it is crazy. Even if you might catch a cold. Sometimes I think it is necessary to spin around in the snow, or close your eyes and stick your face into the wind, or unwrap your scarf for a moment to feel the nip of icy air on your ears. Sometimes I think it is necessary to walk through the puddles and look down, but up into the sky at the same time, to wonder a bit, to marvel.

So then, even if you are depressed and stressed, and you feel as though you have so much passion that is not being put to use because you haven't the foggiest idea how to use it on your own, you still have something to wonder at, something to take delight in. Something you did not make. Something no human made. Something that is fresh and real.

I am so blessed, to have been given this sense of wonder. Try it with me?

*I say happy, and I mean happy. I think joy is a completely different thing. We, the followers of JC, are called to have joy in all circumstances. I think joy is not this coming and going emotion. I think joy is a harder, softer, thing to grasp, deeper than happiness. But here, I will always have something to be happy about, something to delight in.

oct 18

I am so sad.

I feel as if all the joy has been sucked out of me.

I knew what/who Invisible Children was before I went tonight, I knew the horrific things. I knew that I would cry. I knew it would be hard.

but I am so sad.

I can't do anything. I don't have much money. I don't know what else to do to help them. To help the children abducted by the LRA in Africa, to help the children all over the world trafficked in the sex trade, to help, to help, to help.

I need to scream and yell. but if I did here, people would worry. I need someplace abandoned. It's not going to happen. So I pace instead. In my room, back and forth, until I am dizzy. I don't know what to do. I don't want to be alone.

so sad.

If J were not in England, I would ask if I could do my math homework in her room, or apartment just so I would not have to be alone. and she would understand.

and when you think about one sad thing, they all seem to bubble up. they all want a piece of your sadness. all the sad things happening to children. all the things troubling me.

bubble

bubble

bubble

there is always hope.

I do not want to wallow.

I also do not want to brush this aside. I do not want to forget them.

please.

windy,

gorgeous day.

I sat with my Love

in a secret place. (not so secret, but I felt like it was :) )

and enjoyed His presence.

and marveled at the wind,

and how amidst the glorious wind and sun and pine trees,

He would choose to sit with me.