I’m lying in the summer grass. Above me the sky appears as if the heavens are opening. Perhaps brilliant marshmallow clouds behold some greater being, a creator with vision and design? There has to be more to humanity than our randomness in the world. I think that we all have a place, a reason, a purpose. We aren’t accidental and are made specifically to be ‘us.’
It’s a relief the hot sun is blocked by the clouds but I can see the light peeking through as if the sky has provided me an inkling of celestial luminescence. But maybe the sky is only the sky and I’m personifying my beliefs and feelings? But then, maybe faith and the existence of God is demonstrated most superbly by the the earth, nature, and tiny glimpses of gloriousness seen lying in the grass.
” What does the word “shameful” bring to mind for you? I found two quotes from nineteenth century French writer Victor Hugo that seem to capture my own thoughts on this word. Take a few minutes to free write and see where this leads you. Is it something you’ve done? Something that was done to you? Something you’ve observed on either a small, personal scale or large corporate or government level?”
No one said, life is as believed,
We pass each day, avoiding pain;
Forgetting, shamefully deceived.
Our worlds turn amiss, we bleed;
Yet, from difficulties too we gain.
Consider them in life as reprieves.
Intense pain, blood leaks and we grieve,
Toxins cleansed, blood let, not in vain;
Wounds left, shamefullyunseemly.
Suffer, yet many a worse life conceive;
World that’s mean, feeds on human pain.
Yet, we shine our hope, despite grief;
Though our scars are deep, we still breathe.
There’s strength fighting, not leaving,
A man near death, not left tobleed.
Sacrifice and freedom conceived.
Sadness trickles past, cleansing rain;
Bathed in water, hope found, relief,
Strength, warmlight glows, hope healing.
“A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”
I can’t find a place to put my feet, there’s no stepping stones.
And I am remembering where I ran aground a plea to God.
And I can’t understand all this misery, give me stepping stones.
And I can’t find a way to go, does anyone know?
I’m just trying to place my hands along the wall,
And I’m blind to the ways I go, oh no one knows,
cause your supposed to be a sinner a grevious lie or a saintly saint.
But I can’t be a saint or a devil may care, I’m just me in the twilight at the dark.
You’ve got no right to make me do what I don’t want to do when I don’t want to,
Your the heaviness beneath my feet, those cinder blocks.
Cause you don’t understand when I say no, I’m not judging you.
And you can’t judge me back cause I’m, just as lost as you.
You can’t see the look in my eyes, Im glaring at you.
Because you can’t answer my questions, the hard ones that are vital me.
You dig and delve, say you know better, but you don’t know me.
If I decide to do something it’s going to be on my terms, yours are just guidelines.
You pass me along, like I don’t mean thing, you give me cause to be rude.
But I try not to judge and I try to be nice, but don’t ever force me along that road.
I walk and wander where I please, the deal was with you, so just keep your word.
Don’t tell me to respect my religion, when you don’t respect the increment called yours.
Don’t tell me to love, when I am already broken, and the good ones scarce exist.
They bad cling to you like static, so you cannot breathe, and they take away,
Your will to try, your will to strive, I am alive don’t force me to be dead.
Feel sorry him, but you’ve no idea what I’ve gone through with him.
Find me shoes so I can walk, take my feet far from this frost.
Find me a stepping stone, a crack in the pavement to follow down to Oz.
Yellow stones greet me and I have no way of knowing, why you couldn’t,
Provide relief for only a moment, you are my conscience and my tempter.