Take me home.
Where the foil is red and green and there is chocolate inside.
Take me home.
Where I will probably still sleep like I'm in a twin bed... but I won't have to.
Take me home.
Where Mom isn't a voice inside a glass-cased, geometric, handheld device.
Take me home.
Where the only writing required is none.
Take me home.
The place that I didn't fully appreciate until it wasn't the address I put on my envelopes.
Take me home.
Where I can finally sleep in... but I probably won't.
Take me home.
Where I can bug my little brother everyday.
Take me home.
Where I can hear my Mom's footsteps wherever she goes in the house.
Take me home.
Because even though I have to turn the bathroom fan on to fall asleep, I still know there's a Priesthood holder within shouting distance when the thoughts in my head run away.
Take me home.
Because there's a fireplace.
Take me home.
Because it's been an incredible journey and I want them to see it.
Take me home.
Because even though I saw you regularly, I missed you more than I can tell you.
Take me home.
The place where the bubbles are in a tub big enough to fit all of me inside.
Take me home.
Because right now. Today. It is the only place I want to be.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
The Stairs
Life can be scary.
Like walking up stairs blindfolded.
Not knowing what's ahead,
Just feeling where you are.
You want to stop...
But you can't.
You push forward... you fall.
You stand up, with faith to carry on,
But you fall again.
You brush off these failures,
And with fresh determination you leap.
Only to fall a third time.
Doesn't anyone care? you cry out.
Silence.
Darkness.
Tears roll down your cheeks as you realize how
Alone you are.
You give up, and as you are about to succumb entirely to the self-pity
You've allowed into your journey,
Someone whispers.
Take off the blindfold.
As you remove the mask,
You see others walking those same stairs.
Falling,
Leaping,
Trying,
Crying,
And you whisper to them,
Take off the blindfold.
November 2010
Like walking up stairs blindfolded.
Not knowing what's ahead,
Just feeling where you are.
You want to stop...
But you can't.
You push forward... you fall.
You stand up, with faith to carry on,
But you fall again.
You brush off these failures,
And with fresh determination you leap.
Only to fall a third time.
Doesn't anyone care? you cry out.
Silence.
Darkness.
Tears roll down your cheeks as you realize how
Alone you are.
You give up, and as you are about to succumb entirely to the self-pity
You've allowed into your journey,
Someone whispers.
Take off the blindfold.
As you remove the mask,
You see others walking those same stairs.
Falling,
Leaping,
Trying,
Crying,
And you whisper to them,
Take off the blindfold.
November 2010
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Rainy Days
On my face there were Rain tracks instead of Tear tracks. An original happenstance.
Wore a coat without an umbrella. The rain soaked all around.
There was rain with patience. Not rain with rush.
The trap was with laughter. Not with trepidation.
A chance to recreate. Not run away.
Today light came from the clouds, not the sun. Deep reflection, instead of searing rays.
Smiles came from inside, not outside. Taking what's spiritual and making it physical.
There were unseen bells and the music came from the world, not the tower.
Reflection pools with sprinkled disruptions. Still saw everything.
Trees with rainbow leaves.
Leaves without rainbow trees.
Envelopes with stickers.
Branches made light and clean.
Keys without locks.
Bricks without mortar.
Eerie symbolism.
Love without fear.
Wore a coat without an umbrella. The rain soaked all around.
There was rain with patience. Not rain with rush.
The trap was with laughter. Not with trepidation.
A chance to recreate. Not run away.
Today light came from the clouds, not the sun. Deep reflection, instead of searing rays.
Smiles came from inside, not outside. Taking what's spiritual and making it physical.
There were unseen bells and the music came from the world, not the tower.
Reflection pools with sprinkled disruptions. Still saw everything.
Trees with rainbow leaves.
Leaves without rainbow trees.
Envelopes with stickers.
Branches made light and clean.
Keys without locks.
Bricks without mortar.
Eerie symbolism.
Love without fear.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
The mud is thick
The mud is thick.
Like being dragged through frustration.
The rope burns your wrists where it makes contact with your soft skin.
The horses hooves are steady.
The ground is not.
There are Branches and pebbles.
Boulder and stumps.
In fact, patches where it is mud alone are a relief.
Every now and then there is a sharp turn.
You are whipped around and for a moment you are suspended in stillness.
But the moment passes and you are jarred back to this endless game of tug-of-war.
You've already lost, but your opponent doesn't care.
He keeps on running.
Faster and faster.
Harder and harder.
Then all of a sudden you stop.
You think that perhaps another turn is approaching and you brace for impact.
None comes.
In fact, you have been staring at this stretch of sky for so long that it becomes boring.
You attempt to sit up and your body protests.
As your head flops back down in the mud, you feel a cool darkness on your face.
You look up and see two eyes.
Then a hand reaches down to you.
It is such a foreign gesture that at first you reject it.
Then you realize that you are being greeted with a smile
And you reach up.
The hand is strong and pulls you into a sitting position.
Your wrists are still tied but the horse has stopped.
This traveler pulls out compassion and begins to scrub off grime with it.
They put on a salve of good listening.
They shield your heart with a hug.
They do not have to tell you they love you.
You know it.
And they know it.
They cannot take away the pain of this journey.
You know it.
And they know it.
But what you didn't know was that they could give you a priceless gift.
Not only a small relief from the torture,
But also a reminder.
This is not forever.
There will always be people who love you.
You are not looking forward to continuing the drag.
But you can now look forward to ending it.
Because up until this point you were not sure it would end.
But the reminder of a traveler keeps hope pumping through your veins.
January 2013
Like being dragged through frustration.
The rope burns your wrists where it makes contact with your soft skin.
The horses hooves are steady.
The ground is not.
There are Branches and pebbles.
Boulder and stumps.
In fact, patches where it is mud alone are a relief.
Every now and then there is a sharp turn.
You are whipped around and for a moment you are suspended in stillness.
But the moment passes and you are jarred back to this endless game of tug-of-war.
You've already lost, but your opponent doesn't care.
He keeps on running.
Faster and faster.
Harder and harder.
Then all of a sudden you stop.
You think that perhaps another turn is approaching and you brace for impact.
None comes.
In fact, you have been staring at this stretch of sky for so long that it becomes boring.
You attempt to sit up and your body protests.
As your head flops back down in the mud, you feel a cool darkness on your face.
You look up and see two eyes.
Then a hand reaches down to you.
It is such a foreign gesture that at first you reject it.
Then you realize that you are being greeted with a smile
And you reach up.
The hand is strong and pulls you into a sitting position.
Your wrists are still tied but the horse has stopped.
This traveler pulls out compassion and begins to scrub off grime with it.
They put on a salve of good listening.
They shield your heart with a hug.
They do not have to tell you they love you.
You know it.
And they know it.
They cannot take away the pain of this journey.
You know it.
And they know it.
But what you didn't know was that they could give you a priceless gift.
Not only a small relief from the torture,
But also a reminder.
This is not forever.
There will always be people who love you.
You are not looking forward to continuing the drag.
But you can now look forward to ending it.
Because up until this point you were not sure it would end.
But the reminder of a traveler keeps hope pumping through your veins.
January 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
The Nightmare's Almost Over
You won't believe me.
So I won't tell you twice.
But take my word and hold it for a moment.
The scars should not surprise you.
You remember the wounds don't you?
The memory is not a physical barrier. So stop treating it like a hurdle.
It's a step.
In a winding, terrifying, assymetrical staircase.
Taking you higher.
Taking you farther.
You'll see more from the top. So let's get there before we look down.
You're not afraid of heights. So stop acting like it.
Take a deep breath through your heart.
It will fill with
Courage
Pride
Confidence.
You won't be afraid. So stop pretending like you are.
Because you will not fail.
These will sustain you.
But more than these, do not forget your guide.
He loves you.
You need him.
He's done it before.
April 2013
So I won't tell you twice.
But take my word and hold it for a moment.
The scars should not surprise you.
You remember the wounds don't you?
The memory is not a physical barrier. So stop treating it like a hurdle.
It's a step.
In a winding, terrifying, assymetrical staircase.
Taking you higher.
Taking you farther.
You'll see more from the top. So let's get there before we look down.
You're not afraid of heights. So stop acting like it.
Take a deep breath through your heart.
It will fill with
Courage
Pride
Confidence.
You won't be afraid. So stop pretending like you are.
Because you will not fail.
These will sustain you.
But more than these, do not forget your guide.
He loves you.
You need him.
He's done it before.
April 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Little Lamb
Little Lamb lay down with me.
Here where we are both alone.
My hands are blistered and cracking and I'm sorry that they taint your soft wool.
Dad says that hard-working hands are pretty hands.
But in my hard work I forgot my Little Lamb.
I pushed, I swept, I ran, I carried, I cleaned, I studied.
But my Little Lamb went neglected.
You don't say much,
But I can feel you Little Lamb.
Your gentle nudges and your comforting closeness remind me of your love.
Oh why did I leave you alone?
You could've saved my hands and my heart.
If a lamb could smile I'm sure you do.
You understand.
Though I can't decipher how, you understand everything I feel.
You have been here before haven't you little lamb?
Your eyes know me.
And I know your eyes.
I'm sorry it took me so long to recognize.
Thank you Little Lamb.
Thank you Big Brother.
July 2013
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Out of the box
Would you know I had grown if you hadn't seen me as a baby?
How do you measure change?
We compare.
How do you measure love?
We contrast.
How do you measure a relationship?
It isn't fair.
It isn't fast.
We spend years developing these falsified, glorified relationships and judgements
Only to discover that we were looking at a baby picture.
The person we "know" is so much more than what we can see.
And so we have missed a life.
We have missed the bumps and the bruises
Attempts and the successes
Heartache and hardship.
We have missed what made this person.
We have boxed them up and set them aside.
December 2011
How do you measure change?
We compare.
How do you measure love?
We contrast.
How do you measure a relationship?
It isn't fair.
It isn't fast.
We spend years developing these falsified, glorified relationships and judgements
Only to discover that we were looking at a baby picture.
The person we "know" is so much more than what we can see.
And so we have missed a life.
We have missed the bumps and the bruises
Attempts and the successes
Heartache and hardship.
We have missed what made this person.
We have boxed them up and set them aside.
December 2011
Hope
Hope
Faith is like a seed,
But hope is like a weed.
It spreads to other gardens.
Spreading and growing, until
it encompasses all our thoughts.
It can control our actions,
forcing us to do the impossible.
It only leaves if you pluck it out,
but the good thing is...
Hope
can grow back.
January 2007
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