willow springs park

she thought to herself / "we're tremendously young" / as the sun shown bright upon his face / three small children flew their kites / they ran past the hill / panting and laughing simultaneously.


she thought to herself / "is this what love is like?" / as he wrote a note in his textbook / a family threw a football a few yards away / the mother spoke harshly to her children.


she said audibly / "you make me smile" / as he held her head in his hands / the clouds ran away and exposed a rich blue sky / it towered above all the mountains that they could see.


he proclaimed out loud / "oh I just love you!" / as she kissed him softly on the eyes / they were graceful in the sun / they were joyful under the blue and the kites / with the harsh mother and gentle mountains nearby.

this kind [or how i'm never prepared]

there's not a lot i can tell you now / that you don't already know / no new ideas of faithfulness / all i hope is for us to grow

the sun caressed your face / with a golden grace / and the wind made us shudder / your hands in my hair / assured me that you were there / oh my heart / it wasn't prepared for this kind of weather

the candle-warmed nights in my bedroom / all of my half-completed sculptures / and your lovely laughing lips / oh they are gentle reminders of our youth

the moon caressed your face / with a silver grace / and the wind made us shudder / your hands in my hair / assured me that you were there / oh my heart / it wasn't prepared for this kind of weather

that time we walked together  / hoping to see the stars / i touched your hand twice as i fell / into you so deep and far

the snow caressed your face / with purity and grace / and the wind made us shudder / your hands in my hair / assured me that you were there / oh my heart / it wasn't prepared for this kind of weather

today was spent thinking about micah cox

micah cox died last year. i didn't know him well. i barely knew him really, but the fact that he walked past me one day and was gone the next is still unsettling.
it's unsettling because i knew the moment he was gone what real fear was like.

i distinctly remember hearing the news. i grew cold and hot and could barely process the words i was hearing. i remember looking at jen sitting on my bed and thanking God that she was there. i remember walking outside in the cold, damp march night. i walked up the hill and sat and looked at the stars while i gasped back tears. i remember thinking of each member of micah's family and trying to think about what they were going through. i remember walking back into my room and hanging some flowers i had picked from my light.

there's still one flower left in my room at home. it's almost dust now, but it's there.

there is a tremendous quote by c.s. lewis. he says "no one ever told me that grief felt so like fear".
it wasn't until my grandfather died (a few short weeks later) that i realized that what was washing over me a year ago.

that crippling fear is also enabling. it enabled me to see the triviality of life and how foolishly i lived and how little i loved. it enabled me to change. and it enabled me to be broken enough for God's love to fill in the cracks.

so i guess i'm just trying to say that, in a sense, no one is really ever fully gone, even when they are dead. their life always matters and molds someone else's.


how incredible is that?

twenty. vingt. veinte.

i promised myself i wouldn't write this post.
i literally said out loud "yeah that'd be too sentimental."

but here i am.

i don't really have a lot to say. except that i feel incredibly odd/blessed to now be in the magical decade known as "my twenties".
as my heart and mind grows up, i'm starting to realize the significance of age. how certain years really are important. even though your whole life matters.
nineteen was just what i expected it to be: unexpected. nothing made sense last year. nothing. even in hindsight, most of it is still confusing. my decisions were irrational for most of my nineteenth year and the consequences were mostly more confusion...not direct punishment.

i think if i could categorize my nineteenth year with a word it would be "aimless".  don't get me wrong. last year had a purpose and my God is always always faithful. what i did last year mattered. what i'm saying is, i thought so much about everything last year, that i didn't have time to really think about anything. (okay, i know that sounds seriously mental, but it really makes sense...) my own neurotic tendencies completely shattered the possibility of my experiencing life in a healthy way. i just wandered in and out of different situations and circumstances like a wounded animal without a home.

so twenty is here now. nothing changes overnight, but i really would like to be able to turn my mind off, so to speak. i would like to stop thinking about everything all the time and just come back to the fundamental facts that i'm alive and have a heart that is beating and a God that is sovereign. i would like to stop rationalizing anything and everything into the ground. i would like to be more trusting and less cynical. i'd like to get better at loving people without fear of disappointment/of being disappointing. most of all, i would like to love Jesus so much more and so much fuller than i have. love Him to the point that i can accept things and stop trying to create my own scenarios where everything works out...or where everything fails.

so yeah. i'm twenty. this is a new decade. and it's going to be the best one i've lived yet.
right?
right.

quiet

an expiring flashbulb
in the skies
the bright street lamps
and my blinking eyes
the asphalt shifting below a thousand tires
and the smoke rising from the forest fires
this drought of my heart
now plaintively crying for rain
expected satisfaction
when the thunder came 
your arms held me close
but no showers did pour
instead my heart was left
as parched as before
so fill me with your emptiness
the kind i think i want
while this land becomes drier still
while i tell myself i can't
because in the arms of a near-stranger it suddenly becomes clear

my masochistic tendencies are created by an insatiable fear

a fear of a love that comes
quiet
like the rain

a fear of a love that comes
quiet
like the rain

polaris (A/B)

falling asleep
the sounds of lovers above me
and the rain hitting my window

i think of you
your face in the daylight
and the way you would react to things unsaid

oh this holding onto nothing
this grief
this sorrow
i thought i'd be spared because i am young

but you drifted away from me
no longer in proximity
with hopes that i have had
and songs i've sung

two silent stars
burn into my back
marking where i last felt your kiss

can there be anything
between knowing
and not knowing me
a twilight of acquaintance
where we'll meet

those two stars will sing again
and i promise the moon won't look
while we repair
each other's hearts

so i listen to lovers
lovers and the rain
the clouds cover my body
oh my heart
and my guidance is gone

efflorescing.

effloresce  (ˌɛflɔːˈrɛs)
— vb
1. to burst forth into or as if into flower; bloom
[from Latin efflōrēscere  to blossom, from flōrēscere,  from flōs  flower]


today, while looking at someone who i have only recently gotten to know, it struck me.

i have beautiful friends.

the magic of that statement is so much deeper and stronger than i can express. it's magical how people can grow more and more beautiful in your eyes as you become closer and closer to them. their bodies are no longer where their soul is kept. no, their bodies become an extension of that. so when i look at my dearest friends, because i know the stunning nature of their mind and soul, i cannot help but think their bodies match.
i don't know if that makes sense to you, but it makes so much sense to me.
once i am won over by the person's heart, i began to admire every little nuance of that person's body. the way they hold their hands, the subtlety of their expressions, how their muscles tense when they concentrate, the corners of their mouth when they smile, the shape of their eyes, and countless other things like that.
i tried to find a word that could express this process that people go through. the process of becoming more and more gorgeous, regardless of how they really look.
the best thing i could find is the word above.

the beauty of their soul bursts forth. and blooms through their bodies.