Dear 161 visitors since November 24th,
Who are ya'll anyway?
Today I realized-- that I can walk on water! It is frozen underneath my feet every day on my way to class. You know what else I can do on water? Fall on my FACE. Yep, I can.
Sunday night, I told God I was ready to listen.
He's been waiting on me. We talk about it sometimes.
This week, I am tuning-in to the answers behind the lines. (I used to be afraid of them.)
So far, if I could put them into a sentence-- they would sound something like:
"I love you, but it is time to get over yourself. You were capable the second you were ready to be."
It's not over yet, but there is a break in the silence.
Tonight, I sang in my car. Finally, I sang again.
Where my voice was once distracted, there is now conviction.
"But men who can consign over the rights of posterity for ever on the authority of a moldy parchment, like Mr. Burke, are not qualified to judge of this revolution. It takes in a field too vast for their views to explore, and proceeds with a mightiness of reason they cannot keep pace with."-- Thomas Paine; Rights of Man.
"Poetry is not like reasoning, a power to be exerted according to the determination of the will. A man cannot say, "I will compose poetry." The greatest poet even cannot say it: for the mind in creation is as a fading coal which some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness; this power arises from within, like the colour of a flower which fades and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our natures are unprophetic either of its approach or its departure. Could this influence be durable in its original purity and grace, it is impossible to predict the greatness of the results; but when composition begins, inspiration is already on the decline, and the most glorious poetry that has ever been communicated to the world is probably a feeble shadow of the original conceptions of the poet."
"A Defense of Poetry"