a wint'ry poem

I hear nothing but my brain creating
White noise to fill the void of sound surrounding me
Perhaps instinct is telling me that everything
Including the ice crystals bombarding me
Creates tiny explosions upon impacting
That vibrate the molecules nearby which carry
Through the air to tiny bones that give me hearing
But now, these vibrations are muffled before they reach me
As the multitude of inundating flakes are being
Absorbed by the snow that blankets the ground around me
So I hear nothing but myself explaining
The reason for the lack of sensation in me


we are the Ewoks

Now, I know that it's been a long time, for sure. Fathomless, endless oodles of time since I last updated this blog. I guess I wanted to be sure that I've still got it in me, and that I am not too rusty when it comes to writing (which could easily be the case, after an entire school year of not really writing a whole lot). Even aside from this, I somehow feel this weird sense of urgency to relate all of my experiences since the previous true blog update...which, by the way, I consider to be the last update in January.

However, I also know that in the interest of keeping you all interested instead of losing you to the vast number of multifariously boring stories that would commence if I set out to recount the past year. So ultimately, I will keep this post tethered to the aforementioned subject: Ewoks. If you have ever watched the movie "Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi", you will remember (hopefully with fondness) the cute, furry, walking teddy bears that they are. And you might also recall the stirring image of a slew of Ewoks holding tightly to a rope that had been looped around the 'foot' of an AT-ST walker, and being dragged along the ground with each mighty step.

Warning. In the next few sentences, I will compare Star Wars to a believer's relationship with God, so please bear (yes, pun intended) with me for just a moment.


a chuckle and a sound

Amused, God looks me in the spirit
He has no need to verbalize
My ignorant folly, for I can hear it
Simpering softly before my eyes

How could I be so blissfully unaware
Of my own assumption of doubt?
That I believe the power of prayer
Is lacking in heavenly clout?

Whether I pray for my own sake
And the wisdom to prioritize,
Or for those caught in life's wake,
Or for a friend's spiritual fire to rise

Why does He choose to act and move?
It's not because I am devout,
But so the Mighty One can prove
Himself to man is what He's all about


slowing down

It’s weird to write this blog, knowing that I hadn’t planned to make another long blog post, but also knowing that things would probably end up heading that way. So really, I have no idea where this will take me, but I’m strapping myself down.

For example, I was sitting at my laptop writing the past sentence three and a half hours ago, when I heard a game of Clue going on outside my suite, so I joined it, and then ended up watching “Grand Turino”. (Great movie, by the way.) Now, I’m laughing inside at the craziness that goes on in my life, and I’m quite happy with it.