Track 10

    A friend of mine asked me to tell a story earlier today, so as I was sitting on my bed in another friend's star-and-moon-covered pajama pants, I wanted to create something brief that captured a child-like innocence, filled with wonder and curiosity. Those things inspired me, but as funny as it may sound, the smiling, sleepy moon faces on the pants also inspired me. I don't know if one would call this a story or a poem or just a goofy word from myself, but I wanted to share with my readers! It's a bit sloppy but I enjoy it and its simplicity quite a bit. You may need to read it a couple times to really appreciate it; I know I did. I hope you like it!! I would love feedback! 



"The moon is often bright when it's about two o'clock in the morning. Sometimes the clouds are hiding its beauty, but not because they're mean. Sometimes it's facing the side of the world that we all wish we could go. I wonder if we really want to go there just because we'd be given the chance to see the moon from another perspective. Anyway, I think the moon likes to smile. I think that moon up there grins from one circle-side to the other, and if she had a body, I bet the cute thing would throw her moon-head back, and these people down here would talk about what scientific wonder or what space dilemma caused it. She'd keep up her floatin' and giggle, because we don't realize that it's all so simple. I'd like to think she lies around and hums such calming music, and she's always wished she could twirl around at speeds like those neighboring stars that shoot past her. She doesn't wish she could walk or fly or run, she doesn't sigh about tomorrow or what she's unable to do yesterday. She's a wishing moon and a content moon, and she really likes where she is. You may think I'm crazy, but I think you're stubborn. I think you grew up too quickly and your eyes can't see past your constant hand's covering of them. One day I'd like to go visit the moon. . . I wouldn't chat with her, but I'd probably dance with her. And I think she'd just smile, contently and beautifully, and wonder why more people don't ask her to dance." 

                                 (It reminded me of this children's book I used to read!) 

Track 09

    My insides feel as though someone is tearing them apart from the inside. 
    My insides feel. 
    My hands work the way a new animal cries and 
    tries for its mother. 
    My hands work. 
    My heart beats to the rhythm of this dripping faucet and the steps of the blind. 
    My heart beats. 
    My soul cares for the sick and the pained and the lost and the angry and the blaming. 
    My soul cares. 
    My mind flies like the hand of the inspired, composing author.  

Track 08

I think there's a piano in the sky, playing music for all the world. I think a piano is in the sky, crashing with the thunder, pouring with the rain, shining with the sun, flying with the birds. The notes are our thoughts, our literature, our strengths and our weaknesses; The chords are our relationships, our sentences, our apologies, our kindness. We dance and we sing and we love and we strive. I think there's a piano in the sky, making music for all to hear. I think a piano is in the sky, sounding music for all to feel.

Track 07

    This story is the same, this truth like any other. Have you read it? 
                                                                                                                 into 
    Have you heard it? 
                            all of 
My fear sure is captivating, do you not agree? Was this the reason for your force? Or did it just excite you? 
                                                                                                                                                     does 
    Maybe you'd like to wallow in it, to com                    mit again and again. Maybe I just need to stop. Or to keep on going, to keep on moving, to go on forward, to not fall 
                                                                                                                            back. 


    I wish I could let you go, but my force isn't quite as strong as yours. 
    Or maybe your force isn't strong at all, maybe this is my fault. 
    I shouldn't have been so naive, shouldn't have been so calm.
    I guess I thought you saw me screaming. 




This poem doesn't have a title and probably doesn't even need one. For anyone reading, this was written a long time ago and what is said is said because of a hard time that I had gone through in my lifetime. So many times, I did not see much hope for anything, including myself. This is evident in many of my writings, including this one. If I share them, it is not necessarily because I am being haunted or want pity. It is just my sharing of some of my poetry. Christ has brought me a long way and helped me to conquer the hurt and fear that I allowed myself to nearly be consumed by. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful evening! 

Just Somethin'

This is something simple and beautiful that my wonderful friend, Bethany, wrote for her older brother who was recently married called, "When He Saw His Bride." 


The church doors swung open, 
The people looked on, 
An audience witnessed, 
His seeing his bride! 


He looked to her with love. 
She looked to him with respect. 
It was as if time stood still 
When he saw his bride. 


Her face radiated beauty, 
His face showed joy. 
Together love abounded 
While he saw his bride. 


When he looked to her 
No joy was concealed, 
No delight unexpressed; 
Everyone knew 
He was seeing his bride! 


Just as time started 
And as time will end, 
Wedding love was unfailing 
When he saw his bride. 


As that message sunk in 
A smile emerged, 
A tear drop tickled 
As he was seeing his bride. 


From this point forward 
He's Christ to his bride. 
He'll love her and cherish her, 
Smile


Each time he sees his bride!