forty five

mountain fog fills your lungs
ice creeps into your heart
winter is entering intravenously

the trees have shed their skin
the sun has grown thin
November strips the mountain naked

climb to the top
and cast off
the things that you never needed
your eyes have grown old
and your fingers cold
hold onto
the thoughts you've never spoken

white snow is falling fast
it fills your small mouth
and freezes the ends of your eyelashes

the yellow grass on the balds
is beaten by the wind
as she pulls you toward the frigid cliffside

climb to the top
and cast off
the things that you never needed
your eyes have grown old
and your fingers cold
let go

forty four

my sister saw your face buried in the leaves

but i don’t believe her

one day she cried
she saw me walking by your side

but i don’t believe her



it’s been three long years
that you’ve been gone
and three long years
that i’ve been sorry

my sister hold my cold hand
through the wood
and i love her for it
her dark eyes say that she knows
all that i don’t

and i love her for it



the fiery trees
tell me it’s autumn again
and i wish your head
was here on my shoulder

my sister rarely laughs
since you’ve passed
she loved you more than i could
i hold her close
and tell her to let you go
but she loved you more than i could

together we run through the snow
to your little grave
together we say hello
we blow a kiss to your wintery face



it’s been three long years
that you’ve been gone
and three long years 

that i’ve been sorry

it was three quick years
that she loved you
it was three quick years
that you loved me
i’m sorry sister
that i didn’t know
i’m sorry lover
that i said no
we have no time
no time you know

so let’s wait three months

and she’ll be older
and i’ll be wiser
you won't be forgotten
but after the winter
is when all things blossom

but now they live with me

i used to know
where the night terrors go
after the sun wakes up

forty three

while staring out the large window this afternoon:


the raindrops on the window
are making the world look wrong

there’s a crumpled leaf in my filthy hand
faded words are written on it
words I don’t understand

there was dirt on the carpeted ground today
and old black tea in the new brown pot

the autumn mountains exhaled its smoke

as I ran to meet the evening

as I ran to the arms of a dying oak


you once told me that everyone’s alone

that we think we have love but we don’t

that the seed of solitude was once and forever sown

that there’s no good man that can atone

for everything

for everything we’ve done.


the sky turned yellow before it went dark

my feet were cold from the aging dew

your thin face appeared in the thinning clouds

with my eyes shut tight and my heart wide open

you were wrong you were wrong I began to shout



there’s a stone where you sleep

it says that you lived but that’s not true

you were dead the day you were born

I untied the black ribbon from around my neck

and laid it amongst the lady fern



you once told me that everyone’s alone

that we think we have love but we don’t

that the seed of solitude was once and forever sown

that there’s no good man that can atone

for everything

for everything we’ve done



with my eyes shut tight and my heart wide open


you were wrong you were wrong



now I know that no one is alone

that we are loved wildly by a force unknown

that flowers of hope have already been grown

that there was a good man that did atone

for everything

for everything we’ve done

in general, right now.

so I haven't blogged in a while. I mean really blogged.
I guess I talked about camp, so that's partially untrue.

the truth is, I haven't written a lot at all lately.
there have been some things weighing heavily on my mind and even more heavily on my heart.
they've stifled my creative thoughts and caused me to just give up before I've even begun to try.
if you've ever been there, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
if you don't.
well, bless your heart.

anyway, God is incredibly loving. we all know this. but honestly, sometimes He gives us beautiful things that we don't ask for.

like fall break, for instance.

I drove home tired, nervous, and a bit depressed.
I've had a tough time with this semester.
God knew this. He knew I needed to spend time with people I love and who love me.
He knew I needed to let some things go.
He knew that in letting those things go, I would feel more relieved and revived than I've been in two months.
He sent photographs of little Haitians and a good friend who's moving in with me next year and a faithful friend who always loves me (even when I'm being dumb) just to show me that He really, truly loves me.

something else hit me this weekend.

what I'm going to do with my life has always been a mystery. there are some concrete options that I guess I can choose from. and there are these dreams that I cling to and want to choose even though they're not concrete.
since last spring, I have seen these two separate worlds being knit together. all of a sudden, my concrete options and "career paths" are flowing into the dreams. the "real" world is becoming a dreamscape.
I think that's a good thing.
I think God wants us to be dreamers.

I guess this is why I never post actual blog-like posts. I'm always so disjointed and unorganized with my thoughts.

but I guess all this to say I hope that God gives you rest and blessings. and I hope that, even if your "real" life careers and so on are already in existence, you never ever stop dreaming.

forty two

sent to jessica when I got home today:

Home. When I came over the hill and saw the mountain range I yelled because those mountains are mine.

monday mania

a list:
granola, almond milk, craisins. in a clown mug.

painting and john denver on vinyl with brandon

cold, cold rain

grey

new rain jacket

that's neon pink

yeahhhh

sufjan coming to chattanooga in a month or so

me going to chattanooga in a couple days or so

biking at night

sniffles

skipping

sleeping

coffee

a letter from a dear girl

plaid

louis armstrong and ella fitzgerald

forty one/journal entry

october 5th.
i cried.
prayed.
cried more. 
it’s going to be alright.
this is just too hard.
that’s all.
the end.

a dull ache. the explanation.

you may have noticed that a while back i posted just pictures and entitled the posts "a dull ache."

missing camp this year has snuck up on me.
last year, the day i got home from camp, i missed it.
the feeling was vehement and real and then subsided into anticipation for camp the next summer.

this year, the day i got home from camp, i was relieved.
i missed the routine, i guess. but i didn't feel it.

the word miss is derived from an old english word missan. missan is failing to hit. when we fail to hit something, we lack that thing or have avoided the target.

so missing something means you lack something you once had.
you probably know all of this, but it's good to be reminded what words mean.

anyway, i didn't miss camp right away. camp this summer was different for me, as most of you know, so what i was lacking didn't become evident right away.
being here has slowly shown me all that i had this summer.
the situations i've been in, the people i've come in contact with, and the opportunities i've had to share have shown me just how rich this summer really was. and just how much i really love camp.
all this to say, the process of me missing camp is completely reverse of last year. it's started tame, and become more and more violent.
the anticipation hasn't come, because i don't know if i'm working next year (that's a whole different adventure.)

so anyway, how does this apply to you?
well friend, whether you know it or not, your heart is aching. it could be a violent ache. it could be a dull one that you're so used to you don't notice.
whatever it is, it's because something is lacking.
you're missing something.
ultimately, we're missing heaven and perfect unity with our maker.
however, there are things that we miss that can be recovered.
i don't know if this makes any sense to you, but i would encourage you to examine what you're missing. and if it's worth missing. and if it can be found again.

edwin

the fishing line breaks
and we laugh
the rowboat rocks
and the waters crash
the trees stroke the tiny lake
and the morning light shines on your face



the cancer came and stole your breath
your gentle love was the only thing left
you're a good girl, you whispered once
then you closed your eyes



and waited for peace to come.