Sunday Love Solemnized
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Bolts of Lightning,
In shivering thuds
So tumultuous,
Violently
Shook the roof above—
Ceilings once
so sure and secure,
Now rendered ragged,
powerless and brittle.
your small world
Disturbed;
Darkness seized, and
False Light interrupted.
A Calling
So clear—
For reevaluation;
to break away from
self-afflicting routines,
Yet the mind,
feeble and deprived of
Purpose,
Slacks,
Missing
Old Sins—
Once the rain
Subsides, along will fade
Memories of
this most Intimate
and Loud
Reminder…
But Resist
We must,
Goodness and Love
take Discipline,
We Must refrain,
Hold ourselves
From the perpetual
Hollows.
Write it all down!
So that after
this gentle humidity
recedes,
The Will
Remembers
to Fight,
to Learn,
to Crawl,
and to eventually Walk
Under the boiling Sun.
Standing Upright,
We each create
Testaments of true Heart
and Devotion—
Who shall survive
Past our time
In the blistering trials of
Hot Spells.
“A heart does not break; it goes on beating.”
—Dr. Joe Gallenberger.
She looks
In dark amber,
Bright eyes—
Watery,
unclouded
Windows—
from them
hidden Purities
of a gray world
are reflected.
No
Heavenly Saint,
But she thanks
for the slightest things,
And Virtues
does she audaciously
Address,
that because of Her,
My feet are rinsed
Ever clean.
“…Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you.
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.”
—W.S.
I begin to notice that, the heart, after one thing or another, does mature a little
“If I can stop one heart from breaking”
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one Life the Aching,
Or cool one in Pain,
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.
—Emily Dickinson.
.
the best convictions are those that seek to benefit the self the least—they also the ones that shine the strongest in life’s most extraordinary circumstances.
Of something
Fresh and rare—
Eager like the
Playful
Spring Breeze,
Blowing
Your loose
Lettuce
up,
Up,
and awaaayy—
An enigmatic
Encounter,
So New
and
Ancient
Once again.
I fell
In Love
With a fine,
Young Lady
From the Other
Side
Of town—
She North
And I South—
Two neighborhoods, separate lives,
And both having
Miraculously crossed,
Would never
Once
Be
The same.
Particular Moments 