SS - Putrid Poetry

from "Burning in My Soul" - Matt Maher

Shiver down a moon beam and dance here with me
Forget the sound of hundreds of feet marching over rock
There is a fire that burns in rain…

    “What are you muttering?”

    He shrugged and laughed self-consciously, “nothing really, it just seemed to fit.”

    Adelaide hiked up her dress to cross a fallen tree, “What seemed to fit? Are you writing poetry again?” She tripped and would have fallen on her face if Jake hadn’t reached out to steady her but it was his face, not hers, that burned red with embarrassment.

    He coughed. He hopped over the tree, avoiding the slippery patch of moss that had almost upended his fellow sojourner. But he couldn’t avoid her gaze.

    “Well?” She prompted. He didn’t have to look to know that she had her hands on her hips and her head tilted ever so slightly to the left.

    “No.” He said. “It wasn’t nothing. Don’t slow down now, we got to get at least to the gate before dark.”

    “Sure.” She skipped past him, a queer mixture of grace and clumsiness in her movements that he still found disconcertingly distracting after months of travelling together. “But I rather think that any beasty prowling in these parts could be turned back by the power of your witted words.”

    “Shut up.” He spoke the thought out loud but not so loud that she would hear it but at that moment she stopped so abruptly that he almost crashed into her.

    “Hist!” She whispered harshly.

    He couldn’t see or hear anything that would cause her alarm. He opened his mouth to question and breathed in the unmistakeable stench of Anfarri dire wood.

    And I was so looking forward to a quiet evening and green beer at the Dancing Foal Inn!

A Parable -NaNo2010

(another story, this one is told by Gara Sarah)

“Once, near the beginning, a man went in search of his daughter. She had been stolen away from him in the shadows of a careless night.


He searched through ancient forests and young fields. He passed through the labyrinth of the lonely mountain. He answered seven riddles and walked freely through an enchanted garden.


Oh, what joy when finally word of his daughter safe and not far off reached his ears. He cried for joy and his strength was renewed.


But when he came to the great city where she now lived, she did not remember him. She remembered no theft in the night. Her young mind was enthralled by the glories and mysteries of the city.


She told him of a handsome man who had come to court her. The father reacted with rage and told his daughter she would not be bonded to any man of this foul city. He took her by force away from the place. He did not let her say farewell to her love.”


Gara Sarah paused to gauge her audience’s attentiveness. Both seemed to be listening very well. Hm. Unusual.


“The father did not realize, in taking his daughter by force from one whom she loved, he had caused her heart to tear away from her body. He had his daughter with him again but she lived as one who has died.


She ate what was put before her. She helped with the household chores. She washed herself when instructed.


But she never laughed. She never cried. She never raged. She never dreamed.


The father wondered what enchantment had been laid upon her. He called for the trusted and wise but they could do nothing for her. He despaired. He begged for aid from the foolish and reckless who mixed potions and muttered incantations to no avail.


The father sent word to travel as far as may be by land, by air, by sea, by unearthly channels and magical means to let it be known that any one who could restore his daughter could claim anything the father had within his power to grant.


But long before the father sent out his message, the beloved of the daughter had not been idle. Great was his grief when he found she had been taken away! When he heard it was her own father, a true and worthy man, who had stolen her, the man was troubled and doubted what he should do.


Then he found her heart, torn and trembling. He vowed that nothing would keep him from returning the precious heart to the one he loved. The journey was hard. He fought seven dread beasts. He nearly perished of thirst in an enchanted garden. He passed through the labyrinth of the lonely mountain. He walked through fields of harvest and new sprouting forests. And he came to the land where his beloved lived as less than a wraith.


The beloved of the daughter did not know of the father’s offer. He went humbly to this man whom had scorn him unseen and asked permission to see the daughter. The father, worn and impoverished by countless charlatans and helpless heroes, wondered at the diffidence of this young man.


-If you can save my daughter, please do not hesitate but go at once.- He said.”

Project Daybreak

Whoever thought getting up to watch the sunrise was a good idea anyway???

I’m gonna die.

Those were my two thoughts climbing up the hill this morning. My back hurt, my lungs hurt, I had a stitch in my side, my pulse was pounding in my ears and I was positive that I would not make it for sunrise. I had completely underestimated the time it would take to go from the parking lot at the bottom of the hill to the peak. The sky to my left through the trees was a vibrant orange before I was halfway and the light grew with every step.

Just one more curve, I told myself, but the road’s spiral never ended.

Then, finally, it did. I had reached the parking lot at the top of the hill (which doesn’t open until noon) and was barely a minute away from the peak. The sun has probably risen. I should just go sit on a bench and catch my breath, I thought. I don't even care anymore. :P

But my legs had passed that initial point of utter collapse a curve ago and now they just kept walking of their own volition. Up the final steep set of rocks I climbed and found what we mortals like to call Heaven.

Man alive. How do you even describe the beauty of it?

The clouds above whirled with red and blue. The streak clouds just above the vibrantly orange sea held a mix of yellow and pink. Moutain peaks on the right, snow dusted, rose out of mist and seemed nearly imaginary. The darkness of the city’s trees combined with the gold specks of streetlights made it look like the starry sky had fallen to earth.

Then came the sun!




I had NOT missed that moment of sunrise. Ooo la la! I even had time to pull out my laptop and start writing this blog as I watched a flame-like pinprick of orange in the layers of clouds grow and rise until I couldn’t look at it for the brightness, its reflection in the ocean twice the size of itself.

Now, the sun has moved up into the clouds above but the subdued radiance lingers in soft pastels. The wind teases at my face and fingers. The birds glory in the new day.

I think I remember why someone would want to get up and hike a hill to watch the sunrise. ☺

Thank You, Abba. Your artistry this morning gave a feast to the eyes and the soul. I love You!

*Waiting*

*Wait*

Now, Abba?