Friday, February 28, 2003
(i went walking in the rain today)
proper, get out your sou'wester and batten-down-the-hatches kind of rain. as i was going up the hill it felt like i was walking up a shallow river. real cleansing rain. a refreshing...it hasn't rained for the longest time here. i walked back from the laundrette and the lights looked so welcoming...for a moment i wished i was at home.
and it was...liberating. i had freedom...lots of looks from cars. what was i doing out in that weather? if you could choose, you'd be inside...
and now i am snug inside eating galaxy and listening to jazz...and thinking about life, and fate, and plans for a hope and a future...
cross-atlantic emails and i wonder...what is my concept of distance? the internet apparently brings us closer but it really makes us further away from each other...because we are unsure how to relate to someone else's face, and with what lies behind that face...souls.
i re-read this poem
Quarter
(Linford Detweiler)
I will devote my life to music.
Your rhythm moves me.
There is a chorus in those eyes
Colouring the soul of an infinite song.
We will improvise these days and nights,
Make it up as we go along.
I heard you sing
And it was as much crying as singing.
You made me turn my head.
You touched something that was tricky to
Articulate:
Something to do with pain
And fate.
It has brought us here:
The middle of nowhere,
Somewhere we could never have imagined.
How did we get here?
How do we get back?
I don't know and I don't care.
I'm strumming a vision of you.
Humming a blessing for you.
Singing a picture of you in my mind's eye.
A picture of you smiling,
Tears wiped away,
Running alongside white horses
Across the sky
Unafraid.
and i think that it describes happiness.
proper, get out your sou'wester and batten-down-the-hatches kind of rain. as i was going up the hill it felt like i was walking up a shallow river. real cleansing rain. a refreshing...it hasn't rained for the longest time here. i walked back from the laundrette and the lights looked so welcoming...for a moment i wished i was at home.
and it was...liberating. i had freedom...lots of looks from cars. what was i doing out in that weather? if you could choose, you'd be inside...
and now i am snug inside eating galaxy and listening to jazz...and thinking about life, and fate, and plans for a hope and a future...
cross-atlantic emails and i wonder...what is my concept of distance? the internet apparently brings us closer but it really makes us further away from each other...because we are unsure how to relate to someone else's face, and with what lies behind that face...souls.
i re-read this poem
Quarter
(Linford Detweiler)
I will devote my life to music.
Your rhythm moves me.
There is a chorus in those eyes
Colouring the soul of an infinite song.
We will improvise these days and nights,
Make it up as we go along.
I heard you sing
And it was as much crying as singing.
You made me turn my head.
You touched something that was tricky to
Articulate:
Something to do with pain
And fate.
It has brought us here:
The middle of nowhere,
Somewhere we could never have imagined.
How did we get here?
How do we get back?
I don't know and I don't care.
I'm strumming a vision of you.
Humming a blessing for you.
Singing a picture of you in my mind's eye.
A picture of you smiling,
Tears wiped away,
Running alongside white horses
Across the sky
Unafraid.
and i think that it describes happiness.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
(what the world looks like from here)
not much blogging for a while...water under the bridge...home and light and the sea...candles and spices and space...and i was blessed by it...
this morning i got a new world...a new map in peter's proportion...and it got me seriously thinking how twisted our world view is...how we see ourselves as the centre of our own worlds...and we never even think about people who are not us...i thought of how small northern ireland is and how uncompromising the problems seem...i thought of american imperialism and american isolationism...and whether it's one or the other or some sort of reconciliation. i thought that if we all took ourselves off the middle of the map there might be more thinking and less disagreeing...and i guess i thought of heaven and i wondered whether we'll have countries and beaches and whether we'll be able to wander from praise room to praise room...but i know we will be with God...
the west inches closer to war and i wonder...where we're going...how much we are each accountable...how much i still think of me being in the centre of my own map. i am slowly learning...it need not be me...it is God.
p t l
not much blogging for a while...water under the bridge...home and light and the sea...candles and spices and space...and i was blessed by it...
this morning i got a new world...a new map in peter's proportion...and it got me seriously thinking how twisted our world view is...how we see ourselves as the centre of our own worlds...and we never even think about people who are not us...i thought of how small northern ireland is and how uncompromising the problems seem...i thought of american imperialism and american isolationism...and whether it's one or the other or some sort of reconciliation. i thought that if we all took ourselves off the middle of the map there might be more thinking and less disagreeing...and i guess i thought of heaven and i wondered whether we'll have countries and beaches and whether we'll be able to wander from praise room to praise room...but i know we will be with God...
the west inches closer to war and i wonder...where we're going...how much we are each accountable...how much i still think of me being in the centre of my own map. i am slowly learning...it need not be me...it is God.
p t l
Thursday, February 20, 2003
(ahead, where home awaits the heart)
walking home in the dusk listening to van morrison and i thought of my childhood...afternoons and sunshine and original vinyl...walks on sunday afternoon and crisps at half past four...
and the air had that pearly, yeatsian magical-just-before-dawn quality to it...
i walked past keele churchyard...across the bridge where angels dwell...all in the dusky half-light and it was beautiful.
the weekend lies ahead of us, unspoiled by regret and work left undone...it lies in front of us...ahead, where home awaits the heart...ahead, where home is waiting...
this time tomorrow i will be at home, in familiarness...in poetry and feathers...where home awaits me.
walking home in the dusk listening to van morrison and i thought of my childhood...afternoons and sunshine and original vinyl...walks on sunday afternoon and crisps at half past four...
and the air had that pearly, yeatsian magical-just-before-dawn quality to it...
i walked past keele churchyard...across the bridge where angels dwell...all in the dusky half-light and it was beautiful.
the weekend lies ahead of us, unspoiled by regret and work left undone...it lies in front of us...ahead, where home awaits the heart...ahead, where home is waiting...
this time tomorrow i will be at home, in familiarness...in poetry and feathers...where home awaits me.
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
(carrot soup for the soul)
an evening of laughter and wine and friendship over carrot soup after CU...and it makes me wonder what sacrifice is...what beauty is...how do i define my worth?
learning patience and learning to trust...it's the letting go of everything that is the hard part...
sometimes, like now, it feels easy to be me...
the radio whispers in the background and there is calmness in my soul. (maybe lammie made carrot soup for my soul and brianne's soul)...either way, for now, it is alright to know that now is all i have.
an evening of laughter and wine and friendship over carrot soup after CU...and it makes me wonder what sacrifice is...what beauty is...how do i define my worth?
learning patience and learning to trust...it's the letting go of everything that is the hard part...
sometimes, like now, it feels easy to be me...
the radio whispers in the background and there is calmness in my soul. (maybe lammie made carrot soup for my soul and brianne's soul)...either way, for now, it is alright to know that now is all i have.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
(freedom sings...)
i wonder what it is like to be free of memory...to only have the now. to be free of the past and all its longing...to be unaware of the future and the uncertainty it brings with it...to be ignorant of love. weightless. pastless. futureless. only the present being of any consequence...
the winter sky is black and full of rain...and outside the wind gusts through leafless trees but it is cozy in here...
the thoughts in my head collide with one another...i wonder what it is like to be home.
how free am i?
am i weightless?
am i free of the world?
i wonder what it is like to be free of memory...to only have the now. to be free of the past and all its longing...to be unaware of the future and the uncertainty it brings with it...to be ignorant of love. weightless. pastless. futureless. only the present being of any consequence...
the winter sky is black and full of rain...and outside the wind gusts through leafless trees but it is cozy in here...
the thoughts in my head collide with one another...i wonder what it is like to be home.
how free am i?
am i weightless?
am i free of the world?
(a deeper magic from before the dawn of time)
and so life begins online...as an artwork...a testament to the everyday...a reminder that there is life beyond me, and beyond you...in "the lion the witch and the wardrobe" c s lewis called it "a deeper magic from before the dawn of time"...and it is amazing.
and so life begins online...as an artwork...a testament to the everyday...a reminder that there is life beyond me, and beyond you...in "the lion the witch and the wardrobe" c s lewis called it "a deeper magic from before the dawn of time"...and it is amazing.
Visitors:
