A Bird The Other Day

I was watching a bird the other day
And saw something that made me stray
Off the hard beaten track I am so wont to tread.

It wasn't really the bird that made me pause,
But the trees around the sunlit ground
That swayed and sung
The Song they constantly sing.

But it wasn't the trees that caused my feet
To slip and me to fall
Maybe it was the tossed ball
Thrown by a tiny little child across the street.

But even then, as I lay, aching on the sunlit ground
It might have bumblebee
So jolly in his way
Who labored on in the lengthening afternoon
And caused my feet to stray.

But as my wide eyes followed the bee's haphazard path
They lit upon a sight they rejoiced to see.

It wasn't the bird that made me stray
Off the hard beaten track I am so wont to tread,
It was the beat of the slow turning earth
That rumbled in time with time.

The warm afternoon so captured my soul,
That it wasn't the bird that made me stray:
It was wonder at this wonderful day.

Time

The Man with clocks in his eyes came to me

He streamed tears of blood and smiled at me

“Time!” He sobbed, “no time to play.”

The man with clocks in his eyes staggered down the street

Unaware that his body was dying and couldn’t carry on.

He looked straight ahead and didn’t stop to smile

And the people with sunshine in their eyes recoiled

for the man with clocks in his eyes couldn't see the passing time.

The Man with clocks in his eyes

Heard the bells of a new age dawning

Heard them tolling into his ears.

The man with clocks in his eyes heard the bells tolling

And the man--

Just a man, after all,

Curled up in the gutter.

The man with clocks in his eyes cried out for help

He sobbed tears of blood that marked his cheeks with helplessness.

The man with clocks in his eyes

Cried into his suit

The perfect black tie

And shiny black shoes.

The man with clocks in his eyes finally knew

His eyes, so perfect, he thought,

Couldn’t

See

Time.

What If

It's the end. Again. 

Fancy that! 

Sometimes I think...

I think...

Think I, 

That it never ends.

That I have wasted half my life

In comfort and complacency.

I worry that,

Think I,

That I will not rise to the challenge,

When the time comes.

Think I, these things. 

I, a worrier, will never restful be, 

Unless the peace of God

Be in me. 

What if!

What if, 

Think I,

What if!

What if the earth comes crashing down!

What if I shame myself!

What if I did something wrong!

What if, if, if,

IF the sky were to fall, could I hold it by thought?

IF I a mistake did make,

Could I then, by turning my thoughts backward,

Change the past?

IF I had done differently, Think I. 

What if is a disease

That preys on the roiling mind

That preys on my joy.

What if,

What if I, 

Think I,

Chose to 

What if the if away?

What if I,

Stopped iffing and put

the f on faith instead?

What if?

What if I stopped iffing and listened to the truth around me. 

Think I, these things. 

Method in the Madness

       I could spend quite a lot of time extolling praises for the Royal Shakespeare Company's adaptation of Hamlet. But those words would be lost, because it was much too excellent for idle sentences. I might even deem it too sophisticated for the Awesome-O-Meter.

Na. Never. My O-Meters are still the best way of rating that I've come up with.

It rated a ten on the Awesome-O-Meter for emotion, laughs, and acting (David Tennant plays crazy like he's not faking it), a ten on the Drama-O-Meter for gripping scenes and heart-rending speeches, and a nine on the Everything-Else-That's-Awesome-O-Meter for some wonderful, creepy themes of spying, watching, Hell, and evil. The very set of the play radiated "something rotten in the heart of Denmark."

Sometimes it's frustrating to be the only Shakespearean fan in my family. Can you not see his genius? His speeches and poetry--even his prose--is another language to be pondered over and admired (Even though most of the time I only understand half of what his characters are saying).

Did you know that over half of the sayings like "method to his madness" (Hamlet), "neither here nor there" (Othello), and "sweets to the sweet" (Hamlet) were invented by Shakespeare? Not only this, but when he felt the need he simply made up words to suit his fancy. Think on this the next time you use "rant", "majestic," or "lonely."

Shakespeare's genius wasn't the only thing that contributed to this production. Whoever did the casting should be awarded a medal. David Tennant is the best Hamlet I've ever seen, and Patrick Stewart has yet to play a role that isn't excellent. But then again, I do have a soft-spot for tortured male protagonists....

Sleeeeeeeep...

Sleep.
Even now, the word sounds like a synonym for "heaven."
Sleep.
Oh, Lord I'm tired.
Sleep.
Turns out, forty winks on the curvy part of the stairs is almost as comfortable as my bed. I curled up there today because I didn't have the energy to move. The computer screen is a distraction for my blurred eyes, my confused mind, my shaking legs.
Sleep.
Literally, my legs were shaking. Its a wonder I made it through pointe class today.
Sleep.
Yup. My brain has now died.
Sleeeep....

Follow-up to Good Girl

       I've been reading Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris. Well, reading is a bit of a loose term. I got half-way through it on our road trip in January because Iowa was so boring, and haven't touched it until today. This morning, I read a section called "Be Known for What You Do (more than for what you don't)
       Let's take a look at what I said in "Good Girl":

         Technically speaking, I'm a "good girl." Homeschooled, Christian...who doesn't consider "dating" to be          something that should happen unless both parties involved are thinking of marriage. I stay out of trouble          (sometimes), I don't loiter, and I try to obey my parents.

      In essence, what I said was this: I don't do all these things, and that makes me a good girl.  But today, I read this in Do Hard Things: "Being considered a good teen only requires that we don't do bad stuff like taking drugs, drinking, and partying."
      Wow. Talk about a jolt. What the Harris's just told me is absolutely true, that teens are often considered "good enough" or even "exceptional" if they don't do bad stuff. I don't do drugs, and somehow that makes me a "good teen?" What the heck! I was falling victim to a ridiculously low standard without even knowing it.
       I have a confession to make. This year, I've been able to get straight A's (except in math, but math is evil) in all my college courses. This morning, I got a message from the Dean of Admissions at Concordia St Paul saying that I was eligable for some program that puts me on some list that makes me automatically considered for an academic scholarship. Yes, that made me feel proud. But when you compare the amount of effort it took for me to earn a place in that program, suddenly I don't feel so good about myself.
      Getting A's is not hard. At all. I can get A's in my classes with minimal effort and some serious procrastinating. That's what I've been doing this year. And somehow, I managed to get on the "Go Farther" program at age sixteen?
       It is SICK how little effort it took for me to reach this point. I'm not being pushed. I float through college courses, get good grades, and am being rewarded for minimal effort? I'll say it again: What the heck! The worst part is: this is nobody's fault but my own. Look, people. Being above average isn't something to be proud of because the average is so low.
       I consider myself to be an adolescent. By saying that word, I conform to society's expectations for my life. I've even used the "I'm just a kid" and "I'm growing up" argument as an excuse.
      Yikes.
      What I'm trying to say is this: I made a mistake. My mindset is still stuck in a rut, thinking that my age is an excuse to not make the hard decision. I need to push myself, and to hell with the "Go Farther" program.

Golden Thyme

Golden Thyme
Coffee and Tea
You don't have any room for me

"What can I get for you?
Coffee, light, with room for cream?"

I'll take mine hollow
With brine.
You don't think
Anything of me.