There's color of a kind that emerges from night
to paint a starred black abyss in sanguine vestal light.
It splays across the heavens and the earth,
dividing life itself between the inert silence of sleeping
and the lively clamor of waking as the sun sets the sky ablaze.
There's color of a kind that rises from the darkened stillness
as night's reticent yearnings warily drift into day's avid eagerness
to display a fiery prismed sky daubed by the sun’s untainted shine,
shaping starred darkness into sunny light
and bending all life on earth to its will.
There's color of a kind that mixes with burgeoning warmth,
and stirs cold shadowed air into rising misted layers.
Slow in its upward surging and hushed in the watching,
it's burned away in the infinite circadian struggle
with the ever-failing grasp of night.
There's color of a kind in the woeful median amidst flame and ice,
as day hustles night into moans of vapid grievance.
And for the briefest moment beauty defined surpasses speech
as night releases the earth into the embrace of day
until it fulfills its pledge to reach a predicted end,
yet holding no promises for joyful completion.
There's color of a kind that gilds golden an onerous but ample life.
It waits just beneath the surface of consequent ascendings,
eternally stirred anew by darkness reclaimed as light melts away.
Its the kind of color that whispers like the breeze and rises like the fog,
it roars with brash waves of sorrow and rage,
and flashes with brilliant sparks of mirth and wordless beauty.
There's color of a kind that taints the mind with mystery
as the din yearnings of waking life banish sleeping death.
It's the kind of color that which desires to be sought out.
It may abscond from the earth upon the nearing of night,
but it leaves a hint of its essence buried deep in the mind
and stains ardor upon tomorrow's vestal shine.
~Megan
When I was young
I never really understood
how the sun could shine
when it rained
In the years of my youth
I wondered how golden rays
could slip past grey clouds
and how the pouring rain
could not keep the sun at bay
now that I'm much older
I realize grey clouds
and times of darkness
do little to hinder a life
yearning for the sun to shine
and finding a Son of the divine
now that I'm more aware
often time my life is rain
and my path canopied in clouds
but I know daylight always shines
no matter the descending veil of darkness
for He is the sun who's never truly gone
now that I'm wiser
I realize that everything dies
and when clouds rush in
the Son will be my hope
just as He has always been
now that I'm old
so near to the shining Son
where darkness and grey clouds
do not dare to send the rain
to touch a wayward soul warmed
by a life beckoned into eternity
now that I'm dead
he gathers up my soul
from under the clouds and rain
paints it in vibrant colors
borrowed from the evening sky
to meet me in my sleeping
and greet me in my ...
Yesterday was an excellent evening for a riding lesson. Here's a short and sweet lope on Fancy, the best little mare there is! It's not the length of the lope that matters as much as how I apply what I have learned this past year and a half to achieve the desired results. In other words, it's quality over quantity!
When I first began loping the transition between trot and lope stirred up this odd sharp fear at the back of my mind that made me clinch up and tighten muscles and raise my heels...all of which hindered sitting correctly in the saddle. I don't know why there was fear about loping because I love going fast but it took me about half a year to overcome it. That strange few seconds of fear grew incrementally smaller with each lesson. Once I overcame it, or rather took control of that fear, everything began to fall into place. The lesson in this, I think, is that the fear is real but it can also be what we make of it. And there are times we have to ignore the fear and just do the ...
We are immeasurable in the face of trial and adversity. This, we must strive toward even when the vast and complex realities of life leave me with little breath in which to satiate the capacities of this tiny and fragile frames that I have been given. Though my body may be small and limited, my soul, my spirit is unbound and strong. It cannot be contained so long in such a contriving state without striving to seek out the provision of freedom: to roam, to explore! Though my mind and the minds of my fellow humans cannot comprehend all the great reaches of both heaven and earth, we are more than mere trivial existences living in a world made of temporary riches and prolonged fears. Someday we will become more than we ever could have imagined. More than anything we could have expected. Until comes that day, we must brim with the joys and hopes of a more commodious world for we are giants living in a land made for imps.
I leave a piece of me with every trip I take, and I take with me a piece of every place that I leave. - Me :)
There I was on Dog Beach in Ocean Beach, CA. I though staying at a pet-friendly hotel at Dog Beach where everyone had a dog would be fun. That maybe I'd get to pet a pup. But I didn't, and while it was fun to see everyone playing with their dogs on the beach, it was also a stark reminder that I didn't have one.
I'll admit traveling without a dog has been easier, but its just not as much fun. It's been three years, and while that space Darby filled in my days as we traveled together has lessened, its still prevalent. There have been moments on this trip where I just sit and wonder what to do next because those were the moments that were filled with eager puppy-dog eyes, floppy ears, a wagging stubby tail, and toe-nails digging into carpet or clicking in the floor.
I'll have another co-pilot someday. Until that day, though, I'll brim with the hopes and joys that come with ponderous ...
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