A picture

They say a picture holds a thousand words. Which may be so. But what are these words? Are they truths? Can they be hopes? What if they're fantasies? Does that slowly turn them into lies? What if we believe these words? Why is that our thoughts, however pure they may be, however true we perceive them to be, happen to turn into a lie. That we conceive? There is nothing more simplistic than a picture. Nothing more pure. Nothing more honest. Nothing more true. Nothing more holy. A picture is true. A picture is exactly what it is meant to be. It's captured everything it needs, and needs only what it has captured. So in the grand scheme of what our idea of grand and scheme is..where does our thousand words come into play? Better yet, why do we think that they have a shot in the game at all? What if a picture wasn't worth anything but a picture? Can we grasp that? Are we even supposed to? If it were up to me. A picture would be worth no words at all. How beautiful would it be to have no insecure thoughts, no what ifs, no I should have done this'. How beautiful it would be, to just take in what is beautifully pictured. Because in that picture contained a moment. That at the time, contained all moments. Where everything was right, secure, honest, true, and holy. So don't waste your time in adding your thousand pitiful words, rather, take it for what it is. What it's actually worth. A picture. 

Mystery

Sitting on the rocks
with the pain shot down my legs
where standing is not truth
yet sitting holds no grace

Thinking of the mystery
that cannot be unsaid
and knowing of the wire
that binds me and says I'm dead

The blades of grass that cut me
and the pillars of smoke that blind me

The tides of sea that stop me
and the sprite filled flames that feed me

I'm caught up in the wire
and thinking of the mystery 

the lonely crate

he's done it again
as many times, the count is high
he cannot comprehend.
familiarity has become the demon
only he can truly see
it lingers at his touch and in it's work,
it is well pleased.
he never remembers too much
but in their names he finds much rest
they don't have a gripping hold on him,
he locks them in a box.
others tell him of their lonely crates
which leaves his own, to weigh him down
'why must my box
captivate this hopeful broken crown' he thinks.
give me hope in the darkness
that i will see the light,
he heard as he watched his crown fall down
god, must be laughing now.
he returns to his filthy sheets
they hug his body close,
he's lost the keys to his lonely box
'you've been found out'
he hears.
afraid of what will happen next
he reaches for his spare
he's a coward, a liar, and a thief
and will forever sleep in fear

the first season

the first sentence i seem to read in most blogs is, "wow, its been awhile since my last post." so to keep you from seeing the same thing. i'll put it in the fourth. wow, its been awhile since my last post. now i used to write a lot in this blog, almost daily there for a while. then i took a leave of absence, and sprinkled some trinkets here and there. but this time i'm back. i've moved to a young life camp, washington family ranch, for the year, and thought it'd be nice to update people who want to know about what the crap i'm doing here.

i'm out here with 13 other people, and yesterday, thursday, we past our week anniversary together! it was quite beautiful, i don't really remember what happened, or what we did at the moment, but im sure it was lovely. in all seriousness, this past week was information overload. info got uploaded, downloaded, and rebooted. the past five days have all been trainings on how to pretty much do anything and almost everything at camp.

we just started our 'official' jobs for the next few months, and i'm happy to say i'll be mowing some lawns..a lot of lawns, and raking some leaves..a lot of leaves throughout this fall. as more of these blogs seep out, my goal would be to not only update you on some of the adventures i'm going through, but also to share where god is taking me. what i'm learning, about both him and myself.

the next post will most likely have something regarding the wilderness, a chariot, ke$ha, and hopefully the godfather..but no promises on that one.

the three

looking at the stars
i'm thinking 'bout what do do
soaking up the rain
trying to get to you

but i find myself
on sorrows edge
doing everything
but i can't get you outta my head

we are awakening
we won't go away
you say

open your eyes and you'll see
just what we came to be
we are the three

Return

this old story, has been told before
this old story, has been heard before
it has one man, and one woman too
how they did their best, with the best that they can do.

that one man, he fell down on one knee
he said, "hey woman, would you please marry me?"
that one woman, was sitting high up in her chair
she said, "give me a moment, i have to fix my hair."

she would talk about him, like nobody else would
he would make her smile, like no one else could
so they got married, and moved on down south
said the cookin was better, and that's what it was all about.

their ain't a whole lotta happy, in this ending
that man would come home late, every single evening
he started talking a lil different, and walking a lil funny
he said to the woman, "i can't call you honey..anymore."

that one woman, would sit and cry on her floor
waiting for the man, to come and walk through the door
but the man was out, spending all his money
he had two or three, of which he called them honey.

bankrupt and shamed, the man walked through the town
feeling alone, he dug his knees into the ground
nothing was seen, but before him was a tree
he said, "i don't like who i am, but i know who i wanna be."

the tree talked back, said "stand up and be proud
i was planted here, to give men like you a sound!
so make it loud."

"forgive him father, for he knows not what he's done"
that woman said, when her hair was all done
"i have been washed, by His only given son
so take my hand, and we can finally go.
home."

Tomorrow

If I'm seeing blue skies through my foggy eyes
I'll know its been a good day
But almost ain't good enough
You gotta die in a perfect way
If I'm seeing pink skies through my misty eyes
I'll know its been a rough day
There's waves crashing through the seas
And they're all coming my way

I'm walking down this one way road
And I'm going the wrong way
Disregarding all the signs
I just wanna get away
Look around and find
that I am all alone
Throwing out all the truth
Just accepting what is shown

Tomorrow will never happen
I'm busy living for today
The past will never be present
It's a gift only wrapped one way