A late night thought.

I met him when I was six. They ran and played together. I sat alone and wrote in my diary. I wrote books that I could never finish. I’d illustrate the cover, and give it a title. I’d number all the pages and make sure the book was sturdy before ever giving thought to the words needed. I’d save the story for last. Too often I would write a story and leave out the middle and end.

“Don’t worry little book,” I’d say, “I’ll finish you someday.”

But I never did. I never did finish that little book about my dog and my cat. I started several new ones, never to have an end. I met him as a child, we left him soon after, but he remained a reminder of a pleasant time in my life. Seeing him much later, threw me back into the days that my family was whole and happy. It was a warm, sad feeling. My mind loves to wonder and wander and write my life away. What I write is true.

The image of a lonely child climbing up a tree. She sits upon it content, because she is free.  She waits for her savior to bring her home, and take away the feeling of being left alone.


The Inside will sometimes fall out, into plain view…

And I am sorry about that. Some thoughts I need to shuffle out before I sleep.

What does it mean to exist?
Is it easily explained away, as a similarity
a necessity to breathe?
At times I think perhaps, just maybe
we are not satisfied with the knowledge of our existence.
We need a little more.
To feel that we exist,
in love
through joy
perhaps to hate,
to yell, to infuriate
just to know that life is still ticking.

To exist is to find, to see, to believe
We are three and will always be something different
Something catchy.
Why use our existence to pick at truth.
to fight what gave us breath?
Existence in itself screams for our attention
Do we use the gift of existence
to help ourselves? is this right?
How does anything make sense, if it is as you say?

if we are all gods, if we are all right, then there is no justice.
There is no purpose.
and existence is wasted, drowned, suffocated in self pity.
But perhaps there is right and wrong? perhaps a God exists?
Will you use your breath to shout and insult, or to embrace ?
a face you cannot see, i do not understand why this confuses thee
perhaps I’m wrong, just maybe. But does not life itself crumble?
Does not history fizzle, and our hearts break at the thought
that there is only hell and nothing more?

A scoff, a glare, a laugh at me
trying so hard to kill what’s free
A Father gave his Son you see
To give us breath that we may breathe

The Answer…

Okay, so far I like where it is headed. :]

Words fell from his mouth, effortlessly pouring out his heart, giving us a piece of his soul…

I met him, first in my mind. A man who was perfect in every way. He smiled and agreed with me. He had a perfect life. I did not know him, but it was this image that I gave him, in hopes that a man as talented as he would not ever go through suffering. It was my hope that pain would not dare damage him. How wrong I was. To wish and to dream that someone can defeat the world’s cruelty will do nothing, but add to the selfishness I was attached to since birth. I faced his tragedy years ago. The eyes of a man in the process of losing his sanity. My heart barely beats these days. How can I murder what is destroying the people I care about? The people I’ve come to adore from afar? For this man I still have not met, but only seen and heard. And my heart breaks at the thought of his smile vanishing.

I began to reflect upon pain and suffering. I began to see his silhouette fighting the demons that so desperately try to rule over him. How could I reach out and stop the raging fists? He does not need to fight his own fights, but to let go of his life. If I could help him let go of his everything, he could see clearly the Weaknesses of these dark angels. My solution is to turn to He who saved my life. My tears were unending at the loss of his presence. My body was nervous and I felt like it would never stop shaking. His voice however picked me up. It was the voice of my Heavenly Father, my Savior that pulled me out of the dark mist I had called home. I must ask Him to do the same for this talented man, this boy of His.

Death and forgiveness

A burning plane nestled in its crater
Persistent cells nestled in one’s mind
Ice Age, Heat Waves, fighting in the dark 
Who can tell when a fire may start 
Or the perfect place to hide ?
A monstrosity, a tragedy
A desperate plea
For help.
Death will occur
Though the time is a mystery 
To all but 
One, the God we seek,
Ticking time
Bomb no one can stop
Before your last breath 
Before you go   
He can save you from
Imminent death
Please understand my heart
I wish for not one to part 
And fall into an everlasting pain [Know that I love you…]