I am feeling nostalgic and you must suffer for it! so I am going to totally open myself to your funny comments on my nerdiness and post some of my own, old, sometimes trite poetry and a few other tiny tidbits. enjoy.
Untitled- 2006
Behind my eyelids, laying
heavy at the end of the day, you
stand before me, drenched
with rain. Drops slip down
each hair and land on my feet.
“I came through the rain for you.”
A kiss lands on my forehead. I
am home more than ever
before. You go on about your day,
how you rescued this and that.
You rescue me everyday. I lose
my wits when you breathe life
around me. You grow to new heights
in my eyes. You rescue me a little
more everyday. I shrink only to expand.
I wrap myself in you, only
to find myself stuck. I do
not care to become unstuck. Keep
me please. Wrap, wrap, wrap me
in your rain drops. Rescue me
tomorrow and the day after.
Apple Heart- 2006
If I hold tightly to the world
I know, it will not fall
from my grasp. Apples
aren’t always red, and my heart
isn’t always safe. If I hold
tightly, it wont matter.
If an apple falls from a tree
and bruises, is it no good?
I have fallen, bruised and scratched,
have I lost my value? Bite
into me, tell me what is there
beneath the purple spot. Is
your love for me greater
than my shortcomings?
I fall short. I get bruised.
My world is still in my grasp,
tightly balled into each fist. If
I run away, follow me. Bring
apples.
Coffee Love.
written for hannah and clay's wedding day. july 2005
There was once a cup of coffee that held in its grasp,
a love story. I had no idea that right down the road
was my future. I could have thrown a rock
at your window from my porch, but was always afraid
of breaking something.
Could you feel my love even then?
Like the feeling someone is watching
you, could you feel my love? Praying and
dreaming for you, I always loved you. I knew
that I would walk or dance or fly into the rest of my life
with you from the moment we hugged
and I could smell you on my shirt.
Can I keep you?
I still have that shirt.
I know how you take your coffee. I know
that you rescued me from everything I knew.
Everything I settled for. Coffee is synonymous with
love. I have loved you forever. There
is no beginning and no end to me
now that you have joined your heart
with mine. There is no starting and there is
no stopping. I will never stop loving you. Never.
Can I keep you?
We will always have coffee.
A little musing-2004
I stand like a dot on the earth. My feet are buried slightly in wet grass. My eyes are mirrors, reflecting the banana sliver of moon. The stars are so bright I pretend I can feel their heat on my face, making my cheeks blush, causing my eyes to close tightly. I resist the urge to reach out, knowing I would be reaching in vain. I have failed in even my most valiant attempts to capture a star. Reaching and stretching, all five fingers pointed straight for a star, I am never quite big enough to grab it. All I want is to hold it in my hand for a moment. I want to feel its endless energy, let its light expose the secret places in my heart.
I wonder if it is round, like a ball, and will roll in my hand. Or, if it is shapeless and will become like my hand, or like the flower pot, or the candle holder, whatever vessel I choose to keep it in.
This star, my unreachable prize, is always above me. I want so badly to touch it. Sometimes, however, I think it would be enough just to mimic the star. To have its properties of light and energy. I think, if I tried, I could master the bright shine, the slight twinkle. Maybe, in this star state of mine, people would reach for me, let me warm them, let my light illuminate them.
I hold onto my own private stars all day long. The little things that in small, perfect ways make me giggle, make my face bright. My little collection of stars are like charms around my neck. I hold onto them out of habit, out of familiarity. These are the stars that are out of this world, but within my reach.
For Cooper- 2003
Hold my hand,
piggy back rides,
Buzz and Woody
are on the other side.
Wheels on the bus
twinkle like the stars.
Take me for a ride
in your matchbox cars.
If you're happy and
you know it,
kill the beast.
Belle and Gaston,
be our guests at the feast.
Mommy and Daddy,
kisses goodnight.
Stubs, scrapes, and bruises,
kisses make it alright.
Little boy blue eyes,
king of my heart.
Knew i was in trouble
right from the start.
Grow taller, grow stronger
but don't forget me.
I love you forever little man.just watch and you'll see
Night I Found Wings- 2003, when i truly fell in love with writing.
The crescent was sinking to
horizon and my eyes still
held their stare. Eight hours
less sleep to be enjoyed in
my sheets. Every blink
stuck longer than the last one,
every toss more forceful than
each turn. Where is my sandman,
woman, or midget? Why
is there no sand in my sight?
Glitter, as if from Heaven, suddenly
fell down from the light
and dusted me in sparkles.
My toes were first to tingle,
then legs, and belly, arms,
hands, fingers, head,
all alive like millions of tiny
ants. It was then that I felt
them which no metaphor could describe.
Four rose colored wings sprang
and unfolded and itched
out of my sides. A new
song filled my lungs and
spilled over my lips. It drenched
me in quarters, halves
and wholes, rests, repeats.
With every note that rang,
my wings began to beat
until my body arched
and dangled in the smoky
gray air. I darted out of
my open window into the sky
that was pink with morning.
My skin dampened with humidity,
moist, sticky, and perfect.
I flew singing, fearless, free,
into the next town, where I found
my nest. Stacked with
Hawthorne, Rilke, and Poe.
I settled in, fluffed my
wings and sang a lullaby.
Grabbed a feather from my
back, dipped it in ink,
and then began to write.
From my journal- Sept 2004- and dedicated to the girls of BITA-
pursuit of the pearl.
sometimes, in the daily life of a woman, she reaches a point when she really just needs to know she is beautiful. she doesnt just need to hear it, she needs to KNOW it. well, sunday morning, i was getting ready for church in my bathroom. i have this huge string of fake pearls that i absolutely love, and barely ever get to wear. well, sunday i decided to drag them out of my jewelry box, and take em for a spin. i fastened the white ribbon in the back and smiled at my pearls. i have a fascination with pearls. i have never owned any real pearls, so these imposters are the next best thing. i turned in my bathroom to see my 4 year old nephew, cooper standing in the doorway, in his Buzz underwear. he was smiling his little boy smile, and looking up at me with these unrelenting blue eyes.
"Aunt E, why are you so pretty?" he sat on the edge of the tub, so i sat beside him.
"what do you mean?"
"You are going to be more beautiful than Avery today, Aunt E. i really like those white balls." I laughed at his precious sincerity.
then, i looked in the mirror. i dont know what my nephew thinks is beautiful. i dont know if he even knows what it means. but his words struck me so deeply. Pearls. i may be beautiful, i may not be. but i am like a pearl: rare, precious, formed from sand. i am also in pursuit of a pearl.
Dannah Gresh, author of "And the Bride Wore White," talks about the price of the pearl.
Matthew 13:45-46 says,
"The kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it."
In her book, Dannah states quite simply, "God costs everything. He is worth the price." over and over again, i read what she says about the pearl. she relates it to her relationship with her husband, how they struggled to pursue a pure, Godly relationship, how they broke up, how they ultimately trusted God, sold everything, and let Him write the story. i dont know if i've ever given up everything to pursue God. I dont know if i have ever had to throw myself away, to be created new, and specifically to His liking. but it is what is required, and until i realize that, until i do that, i am only worth the fake pearls that i wear on my neck.
i just want to end with a verse that really blows my mind.
it is Eugene Peterson's para-phrase from THE MESSAGE.
"Now listen, daughter, don't miss a word: forget your country, put your home behind you. Be here-the king is wild for you. Since he's your lord, adore him." Psalm 45:10-11
From my journal- 9/27/04- also dedicated to BITA girls.
my journey's here, but my heart is there
wow it is rainy outside!
so....I AM SOO EXCITED ABOUT JESUS! this weekend was one of those that i will remember forever! it still resounds in my head. i have shin splints from doing river dance, i am hoarse from singing and worshipping at the top of my lungs, and i am jittery with joy over who God is and how He works. everyday is His, every blessing is praise straight back to His throne.
sooo....todays topic is Princess.
My three year old niece, Avery, is fascinated with princesses. She loves Cinderella, Belle, Jasmine, and Aurora. She has cups, nightgowns, and t-shirts covered in pink and purple pictures of these dazzling ladies. I asked her once, while watching Sleeping Beauty, if she knew that she was a princess. She looked at me strangely and shook her head. “No, I not a princess.” My heart broke at her tiny little admission. For fifteen minutes I tried to convince her that she really was a princess. It struck me in those few moments that she was a younger version of myself. I play the part of the princess, while never really believing that I am she. I admire the princesses I know, without truly claiming to be one myself. However, the simple fact is that I am the daughter of the King, and inherently a princess. A real life, member of the royal family.
I have lived most of my life until now as a “pretty, pretty princess.” I looked and acted like I thought a princess would, but didn’t feel anything princess in my heart. I thought my faults were too great, my secrets too dark, to be able to have the purity of heart that is required for princessdom. The life I chose to live looked fine from the outside, but was simply wilting on the inside.
I am a firm believer that God has gifted each of us with our own uniqueness for a purpose. If I am completely honest with myself, I would have to say that I am Ariel. Not only because I have red hair, but mostly because I have her heart. I am always testing the rules, stubbornly attempting to bend them, shape them to my desires. There is always something just out of my reach that I am fighting to grab hold of. I have a collection of things that supposedly bring me happiness, but like Ariel’s treasure trove, they are only things, and things can be destroyed. So, in my heart of hearts, I know that I store up treasures. God knew my heart before he formed me, and He knew what I would struggle with. He knows how I desire to be loved and truly known. He knows the heart inside of me that I want so desperately to share. He knows what things get in my way. And He knew that I would eventually give up the battle to Him, and find my treasure there. Patiently waiting on me, He has never ceased to bless me and He has never stopped forming me through my unique qualities.
"But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:20-21
My newly found royalty is a constantly growing knowledge. I try daily to act as the real princess inside me must, growing ever closer to my Kingly Father, the One who gave me my title.
When I ask Avery if she is a princess now, her face lights up and she nods regally. As she grows older I see her true princess traits becoming more and more prominent and I remember to see my own, and to delight in the princess parts of me.
That is all I am going to post tonight. Reading back over my really old pre-blog journals, I realized i am a super slacker with this blog. I could just cheat and post them all on here...but no...I will write new ones!
For now, I am off to bed with a sleepy baby and sleepy hubby. Tomorrow is another day to praise Him...the One who makes me shine.
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