Wanderlust

Oh,

How easy it is to have nostalgia for a place I have yet to visit and an experience I have not experienced.

I watch shows where the sounds and scenery of Ireland lulls me to a yearning.

I have witnessed the feeling of awe at the crowds bustling in Times Square and long to be a part of that atmosphere on the daily.

I see the huge mountains of Colorado and the mysteriousness of the Grand Canyon and want to find myself there.

When will I have the oportunity to go abroad? To see the history and beauty and dampness of London?

I am yearning here in my small little kitchen inside of the state of Oklahoma and I am forgetful of all I love.

The weather isn’t so bad.The heat is stifling in the summer time and the winter is sporadic and unkind. Us Oklahomans long for the joy of spring time that seems to never come and when it finally does suddenly it is gone. The fall appears to hold promises that are too soon swept away into winter. There are things to do in the metro that I am discovering. And our sunrises are glorious due to the flatness of the land.

Yet it is always, always there, this itching in my feet to travel and explore and experience a new and exciting place.

Please, take me away.

The Missing Link

I searched all the earth for my missing piece, only to feel like more of me was missing,

It has not mattered how many adventures or long, beautiful nights of kissing,

The desire for love, for adventure, for experience and ultimately Joy

Has never left me, has never abandoned me, like a persistent little boy.

However, I have come to see, long ago, that the journey is what I desire

Since the obtainment of the thing itself will not quench my fire.

All of this reveals to me, that I am collecting pieces all along,

Of the final battle, the Lost Love, the ultimate adventure; the eternal song,

Rebellion, acceptance, love, adventure, rest, joy all remain in the One,

We are all going on a path towards a specific destination,

I will seek to live and search out beauty in all of its nutrition.

To conclude, to make complete, to draw to an end,

A life of art, beauty, music, and literature is a pursuit of my friend.

In love

Slowly, slowly breathe. 

I trace the outline of your scrawny hips and listen to your breathe as you sleep beside me. I can’t imagine being anywhere else half as content. The weight of your sleepy frame is sweet and dream like. I can never sleep with your body next to me out of fear I will miss something. Shh, sleep now. Sleep peacefully now. 

You whisper mutterings in your angelic sleep state and I turn to your face and trace your lips. I think that you won’t notice if I move, yet even the slightest motion makes you hold on to me that much tighter. 

As you sleep, I think about the Odyssey. Not the ancient novel of long ago, but the progression of every human being. I think about how the people next to me on the subway are going through their own expeditions and adventures and pitfalls as I sit thinking of myself. Mostly though, I think about how I have changed to be a better person through my relationship with you. You have changed as well. The Sk8er Boi you used to be has turned into my sweet innocent boyfriend. I am no longer the sarcastic witty brat but am growing in the wisdom of the Lord everyday. I am also no longer the lonely, broken girl who screamed to anyone who asked that she would never get married. Instead I am the crazy in love girl who pledges herself to you. The concept of us baffles me. We are just two kids who love Jesus with all our hearts and found each other. You are all I’ve ever thought about wanting.

I finish up thinking of change and metamorphisis just as you open your ocean sea green eyes and smile sweetly at me with your left front tooth chipped and whisper I love you in a scratchy voice. I don’t doubt I made the right choice. I never will. You are the only man for me.   

Free Verse

Does one have to know the name of an artist to enjoy a painting? Or the name of all the band members and their kids to love the music? I fell in love with the world in You. Why is it the simplest things in life are the most beautiful? Hold my hand. That’s all the Beatles wanted, “I wanna hold your hand.” The simple hand holding of a couple is the most beautiful image of trust and hope. Yes, I fell in love with the world in you. Death don’t feel like a victor for my poor life makes you none the richer. Matthew 6 talks about storing our treasures in heaven instead of on earth. I have nothing on earth that won’t rot.

I fell in love with the world in you.

And now I feel cold.

Beauty (free writing)

God is beauty. We are the beast.

What do we see when we look at a person? Maybe, that is the correct question instead of the peculiar feeling that we must see God to believe in Him. When we look at someone else, do we see an outfit? Or clothes? Or nails, or a purse or something materialistic? If I were to see someone on the street in need, I might go to them, might. But at the same time, I may just judge them. Beauty lies in a kind heart: to act justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. I feel as if I’ve been focusing on beauty that could never compare to God’s beauty planned for me, but which I felt would be an adequate substitute. I am the angry conspriacy theorist, however I am also the materialistic one. I focus on what others will think instead of what God will think. I seem to fail, and fail, and fail. I do not end up trusting in Him, but try to go my own way. I pray that when I fall this time, I will depend on God to pull me back up.

Revelations

One day I woke up and figured out that I didn’t care about you, or the stupid, insecure things you threw my way. I stopped caring about the way you laughed at my heels and my hair. I just don’t mind what you think anymore.

One day, I woke up and figured out I’m in love with you, and nothing else seemed to matter.

One day I realized how badly I treat you, and how that needs to change. I realized saying I love you is not just a phrase but a commitment. I apologize.

One day, I realized this little body of mine is all I’ve got. I was fearfully and beautifully made, and it’s time I believed it. Make-up or no make-up, I am beautiful.

One day, I figured out what Your love truly means, and I want to continue to live in these revelations You give me. Guide me and my path. You do not need me. You are all sufficient. It is me who needs You.

You Got Away, Huh Babe?

I wish we could go back to that night in the hotel. Although I’ve seen you since, that is the way I’ll always remember you. You’re idealistic utopias, unrealistic dreams, and sweet, false lullabies. All of these things, none of them you at all, is the way my labyrinth of a mind has identified you. At the time, that was called love for those of us who sang, and it might still be. I’m not sure if I would still call it love. Even though I gave you all of me, every single piece, and I needed you more than oxygen floating in the air, you turned your back on me. I know I’m awful, and hard to deal with, so that must be why you got away. I never once heard you say I need you, or I don’t need you. You just left, without even an explanation or goodbye. We talked before you left, and you told me you preferred beautiful women, and you’d make a small exception for me. After a few moments of silence of gratitude, you clenched your fist, and ranted about the oppression of beauty in our society. Asking questions, trying to find someone to blame, you said is it is the individual or the society the individual is in? After more blame shifting and solo debate on your part, you stopped, lowered your arms and sat next to me. In a sudden dynamic shift that startled me, you softly caressed my arms and kissed my cheek (which was a bit damp, to be honest) and fixed yourself. “Well never mind. We may be ugly, but we have the music.” I smiled sweetly as I could, and leaned into you, whispering I need you over and over again. As I said earlier, I’m not sure if it was love. I’m not meaning to suggest that I loved you the best. Who can keep track of each fallen robin? I just meant that I remember you well from that late night hotel. I guess you turned your back on the crowd, which is great. At least one of us got away.

The Secret Garden

Look bro, here’s the thing. You say you like me right? What if that’s not really me? I’ve built a wall around me recently. I decorated my wall prettily, making every nook and cranny beautiful so no one could tell. You will never see the inside of my garden, with it’s weeds and broken swings and pretty flowers smushed. I think this is why I can’t like you. I can’t like someone who only likes what is on the outside. I should not have let you kiss me, and I apologize. But please understand, please come to the realization that it is not me you want at all, but some imaginative figure who appears to be me, yet is not. You have not seen the true me behind the wall I’ve built, and you never will. This wall stands strong, and it is not easy to break it down. I’ll continue to hide inside broken and bent, while my wall does the imitation of me, strong and beautiful. I both pray for and dread the day someone tears down my wall and comes and sits next to me in the debris and says they think this side is beautiful too.

Helios & Luna

“Tell me the story

About how the sun

loved the moon so much

he died every night

to let her breathe.”

Once upon a time, there was a man named Helios. He was radiant beyond belief, and everyone depended on him. He could have fallen for any of the lovers after him, but he fell for an odd one. She often hid part of herself away and made herself scarce, but sometimes she would be full and happy. He loved her dynamic nature, and soon fell for her. He found that they could not always come together, however. They spent the beginning of their love trying to find a way to be together. He almost said it was not meant to be, but she cried out that distance was okay, that they would be together some days. So he agreed and decided that he would lay down his life of radiance for his love, Luna, to shine. She could not do so while he was out and living, but when he laid down for her, she shone bright and big. She still hid part of the time, but she gradually became whole again, only to shrink back yet again. Luna was in love with Helios, and Helios was in love with Luna. And with a love like that, something is bound to bring them together. They had two children, Solar and Lunar, and their last name was Eclipse.

That, my darling, is how the sun fell in love with the moon so much that he lays down his life each night in order for her to come out for a while and breathe.

Sleeping Beauty

“From this slumber

She shall wake

When true love’s kiss,

The spell shall break.”

I used to deeply hate Sleeping Beauty. I mean, come on? A spinning wheel and you just have to put your finger on it? Sleeping for a hundred years, waiting for a boy to come save you, the kingdom, and pretty much your entire life, from deep deep sleep. But now I am recognizing that maybe this is a metaphor. I, a frequent user and intimate lover of metaphors, think that we are all asleep. One day we get that kiss, or fall in love, or have that adventure, or are saved from sin, and our lives are started. The spell is broken. Our true life starts, our true love story begins.