Sunday, June 30, 2013

Trouble Finds Me



~Trouble Finds Me~

Trouble finds its way into the depths of my soul.
It devours my line of sight.
It takes out my defenses and forces me to go underground.
Concepts of fear and loathing defends my right to make mistakes.
Concepts of hope and strength declare my right to fight on.

Trouble finds its way into the depth of my soil.
It roots and grows until it blossoms into dreams that I somehow always burn. 
It grows into weeds and sometimes the weeds are more beautiful than the flower.
Concepts of fear and loathing defends my right to an honorable death.
Concepts of hope and strength declare my right to live with strength.

We are not the high and mighty.
We are not the Lords of our worlds.
We are not kings and queens.
For our God made himself small.
For our God made a way for me to no longer live for myself.
We are the sons and daughters.
We are the children of the high and mighty.
We are the children of the Lord of our worlds.
We are the children of the King.
Trouble finds its way into the depths of me.
Fear, loathing, hope, and strength.
Living, dying, mistakes, and the fight.

All of it makes up us.
All of it makes up this thing called life.


Friday, June 21, 2013

For My Grandpa

~Lamenting the Mourning~

This high and low seems to be the same thing.
When it belongs to another the other belongs to me.
Hearing the sounds that make up life and the unity of the heart, and making up words to describe it, makes life worth living.
The high and low makes my heart belong to another and hopefully the other will oblige.
When it belongs to another the other belongs to me.
Forward and backwards are one and the same. dichotomy becomes the same and the same becomes separate.
This high and low seems to be the same thing.
This high and low defines character and it defines the tear that falls when it dies.
Lamenting the terrible, lamenting the happy, lamenting the feeling of lamentations.
Mourning is the same as living and living is not to bad.
When living belongs to another, mourning belongs to me.
Take out the heart and put it on your sleeve every once and awhile.
You will be glad you did.
This high is no longer a high and this low is no longer a low.
The two become a singular entity that binds my mind to my heart and my soul to the One.
Thanks for the lamenting and the mourning.
I hope this is not another, for when it is another the other belongs to me.