Tuesday, February 26, 2013


I laid down in my bed, and then I thought,
"Why must others be blissful, and I am not?"
So I woke in the morning, with unknown joy
Determined not to aggravate, irk, or annoy.
I swept up my house from the floor to the rafter
I made all my friends stitch their sides with their laughter
I did every duty my list said I must
And then went to bed without frowning or fuss.
The morning that followed I woke with a cry,
"Why must others be happy when I'd like to die?"
So I rose from my bed dragging dirt in my wake
With an attitude angels could not even shake.
I sat on my couch, watching operas and men
And yelled at my dog when she growled again
I told every friend I'd come down with the flu
And did every task I was not meant to do.
When I crawled into bed I felt worse then the start,
So with better intentions inside of my heart
I fell asleep dwelling on a thought deep within,
"My attitude shapes every day I begin."

Friday, February 22, 2013

Creation Came

Oh, Your soul is made of beauty
As my soul is made of sin;
It is my only duty
To look on You again.
There I shall see Your wonder
In the ocean's amber waves,
The rolling roar of thunder
Taking the stardust slaves.
Students we are of glory,
Pupils of passion's games;
You wrote Creation's story
In the fire and the flame.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

What is a Dream?

What is a dream made of?
It is made of open fields, sleeping does,
Soft-eyed bluebirds in the spring;
Hands that touch you, arms caress
Sweet flowers that children bring.
Dreams are made of honeydew dawns,
Waves that flow towards an open sea,
Streams in the twilight, Christmas in winter
Deep blue crocuses when the snow is over.
Dreams fold themselves in the heart of the sun
Flattering sidewalks, brightening wings...
What is a dream? Tell me, what is a dream?
A dream is anything that blooms or sings.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Thoughts of Adam

There will be a day when the rainbow will not represent
The proof of God's promise, but the proof of man's sin
Man and man, woman and woman.
That day will come.
There will be a day when a clinic will be a silent place
Where secrets and unknowns are told,
When children are thought of as no one.
That day will come.
There will be a day when the tears and blood of soldiers
Will be wet with women's blood on fields of combat
Those protected, now the desecrated.
That day will come.
There will be a day when from the hardworking hands
The thousands that were rightfully received
Will be given to another, unconsecrated.
That day will come.
There will be a day when the dreams of a nation
For freedom, and for rightful praise to be cried
Will be put aside for worshiping a governmental god.
That day will come.
There will be a day when the vastness and beauty of the world
Will be but fodder for a mocking book
Speaking creatures out of muddied sod.
That day will come.
There will be a day when the sea will be more precious than a life
The regions which were always thick with ice
Will be considered melting down.
That day will come.
But now the earth is sacred and sublime,
Loveliness, goodness, purity, joy
Follow us with the footsteps of our Lord:
That day has not come, Eve.
That day has not come.

Friday, February 8, 2013

What is Immortality

We grant ourselves the best of things,
The sweetest pleasures, foods of kings
Our very immorality
Our downfall and our shame.
We have not seen the fallen leaf,
The pool red with fallen stars
And objects in the hidden shade
That are the deepest forest's fame.
Things we never knew while waking
Are the seeds of heaven's making.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Blown Asters

When the dynasty of my future comes,
Fair with its beauty, fresh with its time,
I will look back, bedecked, knowing I chose
What was the right, and never chose the wrong.
But deep in my soul I will feel the pull,
Of a thing half sacred and sublime,
Slumbering like the bloom of asters
When the snow is gone, and the spring is young.
I picked the freshest fruit on the bending bough,
The thorns I could not pass, I left,
Only because I was vulnerable to loss,
Because I never knew, nor even know now.
The world around me said, “You never shall be,
But always must come to our regular path,
Ruined gardens are the deaths of many a girl
But not what your innocent feet should allow.”
The paths of my life are not in disarray,
They range themselves in harmony and joy;
I almost feel a sense of pride at times
For my glittering sunlight, like fair alloy.
Yet sometimes when the dawn on golden cobbles wakes,
There is a shimmer of the days when it was near;
A peasant in a coat of tatters was my king,
Years by years that never were my years.