stargirl2791

Feeling a little rosy, got some rosé in my hand but it isn’t the drink that’s taking a stand as I think about all that this world has determined it must battle, about all this craziness that has me so rattled to the point of laziness but that’s not the end since I’m at adjoining roads that diverge and swirl as they go and I follow them as they descend and I paint their lines on my skin from my fingers to my ends and pretend that for a moment the world is okay and that today we are bigger than the hate we have decided to proliferate; yes, instead I take this thread and wrap it in my ponytail that I’ve dyed pink and I think and I think and I think until I’m at the brink of not being able to take any more, and I disengage from all of the hatred and rage and I accept joy as my patron, give in to Christmas lights and laughter and the beauty that’s sacred to humanity and I explode as this frenzy questions my sanity but it’s okay to be a little bit nuts sometimes because sometimes the world’s

They’re hugging me a little tighter today, giving me extra pets and treats and yet their praises are tinted with sadness. I see their tears, wonder why they’re making that sound; I wonder if it was something that I did, but I know I’m a good boy. I see them look at your picture, see your collar memorialized on the mantle – I see them holding your special blanket close, I smell the love that’s wrapped within. And I think I know why they’re sad; I see parts of you but you aren’t here, and I know they miss you so much even as they love me. And so I wiggle my butt onto their lap, and lick their tears, and slobber over their face until they laugh. I know you miss them too, but I know you’ll see them again, and until you do, I’ll watch over them for you.

I see your color - it is beautiful and deep and this vibrant bouquet without it would be incomplete. It is rich; for while the vision begins with appearance, this is about so much more than skin. It is the color of the history of a billion people radiant with exuberance and life, dancing to a unified heartbeat. It is the color of half a hundred nations, each unique in its story, its music, its art, its traditions. It is the color of a smile of solidarity with the past, the jazz sung through decades, the beats that pound from car stereos, memories that echo through the streets. I see your color. It is the color of a people who despite their joy and their peace and their culture have been ripped from their homes, treated like less than property, less than the humans they are. It is the color of a people who trembles at the thought of what lies outside, who fears that a grocery run or the trip to work or an evening walk may be the last trip their loved ones take. It is the color

With miles in between a family comes closer tied by love and light.

This night is quiet. The stars are bright, Venus radiates with the light of the sun, a gentle breeze brings the whispers of hyacinths peeking out of the ground. There are no trumpets, no fanfare, just the stillness of the stars. We are nestled in our home, praying by candlelight and praising the victory of the Savior. We are singing, but the distance drowns out the chorus. Yet in the end we come away with the simplicity of the Sacrifice. We do not need the parties, the dinners, the baskets of fluff. We only need Him and His Victory won in silence, in the taking of a breath.

The crimson flowers snuggle up to blooms of blue - A bouquet of love.

My heart somehow resounds Your praises still - despite the roaring clouds that hide the moon and my wounded, cowering force of will, I pray and hope for our reunion soon. Though my eyes see You as lights upon a screen, and my nose wishes for that sweet perfume I gaze on the constellations serene and breathe deep of the Garden’s clearest view. What lies ahead was known to You, all Three, and on that hallowed ground you wept with blood; I feel your loneliness beneath the trees, and weep with longing for your heav’nly food. My glory of Gethsemane is in the victory you came to earth to win.

The stupid Office so enticing and silly four episodes left.

Maybe one day soon I’ll write before eleven; Netflix is too good.