It's been a while...

It has been awhile since I have written. Actually written. Not just copped out by posting some poetry, but actually written about how I have been doing.

Maybe that is because I do not know.

Things seem like they have been racing at a million miles a minute what with essays and final exams and I feel as if my brain has not had any amount of time to think about how I am doing. Except at 3:00 in the morning when I am lying awake too tired to turn on the light and sort feelings in to coherent sentences.

So here is an attempt to figure it out:

Essays and Finals went well. I'm pretty sure I didn't fail my first year. Ideal.

I've also learned a lot about myself, which is what I set out to do.

I still am uncertain what next year will hold for me, but in this current moment I believe I will be going back.  I only have some idea of the classes I will take. I have no idea where I plan to live. But this second I'm not too worried about either of those things.

I also don't have a job as of this moment. But I feel alright because there are some prospects and God will ultimately make it happen. And it will be good.


So... Attempt made.

It is far from perfect. It is far from wise. It is far from eloquent.

But at this moment it is all I have got. I will get back to you in a few days after I gain some more perspective. And sleep.

Only this

On the shore I stand
Awaiting the ship that will bear all my weight
The one to carry me along
On the quest only the captain knows.

I observe in silence
as other passengers board
Their own journey stretched timelessly in front of them.

They wave to those they love
Who dwell on my side
Apprehensive for their boat to touch the glimmering sand.

One by one they depart.
One by one they sail away.
One by one they turn towards the sun.

I wave to no one.
I shed not a tear.
I become not of what is around me
But what is yet to come.

And then it arrives.

From the distance I can see the silk sail.
Uniquely mine own.
The birch wood is engraved with a thousand laughs,
And a thousand tears,
Each presenting a radiant design
Only my eyes can read.

The wood shines as bright as the sun that sets behind it
Glistening in glory
Almost breathing in its infinity.

There is not a word that can cross the canvas of my mind
No question that can be posed
Only the assured voice screaming "onward"
Only the faith that knows no bounds
Only the knowledge of one foot stepping in front of the other.

The Carpenter's Hands

The Carpenter's Hands
Are scarred with years of work,
Whittling away at His wood,
Shaping.
Building.
Sculpting
the foundations of humanity.

The years of toil has made them
Strong.
Sure.
Steady
able to move delicately on the wood,
dancing in its natural grooves,
flowing effortlessly with the grain.

These same hands know more
than just the wood with which they work
They have washed feet.
Stilled oceans.
Restored sight.
Healed the lepers and the lame.
Raised the dead.
Broke bread.
Grasped my own.

The Carpenter's Hands
Embedded with nails.

Stuck In between

Don't you hate it when gum gets stuck on your shoe?
That you can just be walking along, when all of a sudden something pulls you back, and for a second you are at a standstill. Then you have to twist and turn, and wriggle yourself free, but still that little piece remains.
Don't you hate it when gum gets stuck on your shoe?

But how do you think the gum feels?

Discarded at the loss of flavor.
Left to rot in the street.

Then suddenly pulled in two directions.
Stuck perfectly in between.

Then it is forced this way and that,
desired to be disposed of once again.
Then violently ripped apart.


Don't you hate it when gum gets stuck on your shoe?

Don't you think it's worse for the gum than it is for you?

Disoriented

Do you know that feeling you get when you are spinning too fast?

That dizzy, stomach-in-your-throat, lightheaded feeling?

The one where you can't tell left from right or

Up 

from

Down

That is how I feel at this moment.

Disoriented. 

Like I am spinning at at a rate much to rapid

And I am unable to stop.

Like the hands on a clock

I am compelled to keep rotating.

Like a top that never falters and fails.

Like a dancer forced into a trillion pirouettes.

If only my feet would fumble.

If only I would fall on un-even ground.

If only my battery would fall out.

Then,

I could stop this feeling.

Like I am spinning out of control,

Unable to catch my breath.