Sunday, March 1, 2015

how to adjust your sails

As it turns out, the cliche is true: Life Isn't Fair. At current, I'm standing at the beginning of unfair uncertainty. We've come under the fire of someone who, for whatever reason, finds satisfaction only in Taking. We are defending ourselves, because we know the truth. But, contrary to what you've heard, Truth doesn't stand up for itself. Truth requires belief. Without belief, Truth becomes, sadly, irrelevant.

So where do we go from here? Admittedly, I've been having trouble. I think I've cycled through every phase of grief this week, a few times over. I get strong and I crumble and I get strong in dizzying
 repetition. The process is slowing somewhat, which gives me hope: I just might survive this. I just might be myself when this is all over. I know we will be standing and together when this ends. I just don't know what will be left standing around us.

Life, without warning, can surprise you with a Square One. You can work until your knuckles bleed, until your heart is weak, and run until the finish line - and life will move the ground you're on. Walls crumbled can rebuild with the slight of a dishonest hand. Manipulation works. Liars prosper.

So where do we go from here? Do we sink ourselves, deny our hearts, play the game like the cheaters do? No. Good may not win, but it still matters that we're good. Liars prosper, but Truth quiets the soul. Honesty and integrity straighten the spine & square the shoulders. It doesn't make sense to let your heart to the flame, but what if your heart made it through the other side of the fire, intact - what if Hope was there for a reason?

We can not make sense of the coming days. The 'Why' of it all is a mystery not soon solved. The only thing we know is the truth, and that is what we will stand on, cling to, speak. We know who we are.
We can only pray the Truth is enough.

Friday, February 27, 2015

fighting fire with water

Powerful and Surreal Self Portraits by 20-Year-Old Rachel Baran | Bored Panda

if our souls are made of anything, i think they're made of water
in shape demand we not, in form as it wills and wanes.
by nature, reactive
still and quiet happy and splashing grieving and falls
torrents can pick it up
shifting ground can move it
rocks create ripples create rings create laps in perpetuum.

so, what choice have we? we, this watery soul
made of tears joy and shadowed
hope wet and desert-threaten dry.

we can choose only to be water
do our best to stay water
though the fire comes
and threatens to evaporate
everything we know
about water



Poetry ©aftethoughtcomposer
Photography © Rachel Baran Photography. Source. I will stop using photos from Rachel Baran when she ceases to amaze me. So, never.   Visit her on flickr or on facebook.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

catching stones

All my fragile strength is gone by Rachel Baran, via Flickr

let the morning bring word of your unfailing love
and may grace shine a light on our pain.
may truth fight fights to win again.





exquisite photography, once again, by Rachel Baran. All my fragile strength is gone.










Sunday, February 22, 2015

at night










What does the moon do?

It shows, in the middle of my night,
at some point in the universe, if not here,
there is light.