The Door eagerly awaits, leads the willing, yet the unready-- in a nearly cruel invitation, for some. But oh, what beautiful solace, when our soul finally separates from this cumbersome and vulnerable flesh; then, there comes that intriguing moment when death becomes, once again, as a mystery to the rightfully curious: the living, and an accomplished beginning for those who have answered their Door. The tired may see death as the final place of rest and escape, the inane a blank space--but what will you see therein, what will you say when you finally enter humanity's greatest mystery of all, or will you even say anything at all?
August 21st, 2017 In Honor of the Solar Eclipse Poem: How I Long
Jupiter, Mars, the galaxies afar; such awe and peace I'm in when I wonder at the stars!
Though bound by gravity, my stubborn spirit still has the will, to see the Milkyway Galaxy, and climb on Orion's hills!
There, the place of no finite start, the confounding cosmos; Heaven's neighbor, God's art.
And if once I stop to observe, my mind is in a daze, So much that I am numb to my milieu, for it becomes as grey.
I believe I don't belong here, and neither do you; and the more we see this world decay, the more the fact reigns true.
Some will call me rather mad and aloof for thinking such complex things, But the truth of the matter is I don't care what they think; howbeit, I shall forevermore exclaim:
It's always around to keep you awake, It feeds off your failures, and future mistakes- It wants you to think. It lingers in crowds, dark places even, It sucks you up when there's nothing to believe in. It steals your joy, it's a horrible demon.
My head is encompassed with strain, my eyes see constant fear. My aching heart is soon to burst, there is no resting here.
How much longer shall I keep it in, shall my soul kiss life's decay? Will the naked snow finally melt again; and take away this wall of abstain? should my lungs breathe in a familiar scent, and suddenly fly away?
You'd think I am just shy, a girl that behaves quietly; but my mind is full of different thoughts, different personalities. It's like a waterfall, going down a cold stream, where I am allowed to be who I want to be; 'o it is a dream.
There is no sadness in this undying nirvana, as my whole being can touch the sky. To unwind in this soul case, and close my eyes, is to succumb this craving of freedom, and lief fly; yet all in my mind...
We always seem to confuse waiting with doubt, and guilt with a stand-still.
We think we'll wait until the perfect timing. We're never sure of how we will overcome, or what can be done at that moment;
So we end up in sorrow, because we always think tomorrow will be the day, but we never stop to pray for courage, or fearlessness, so we end up in the hole of selfishness, because we put God on hold, just so our fear can stay.
February 14, 2016 Valentine's Day Poem: I Will Never Forget
What I have found is more precious than rubies from a treasury, and shines like the endless sea; oh, how wondrous is thy beauty.
But should your heart become so numb, that no intimate power can break the box that you are in? I have searched far and wide, for the perfect person to be mine; yet none can qualify. And as I come nearer, my love for you becomes clearer.
Life is too short to spend it alone, and I realize this reality, now that that I've grown into maturity but yet much hate towards me you've shown.
So timid, so fragile; yet so full of light, why have you shut all openness into the darkness, and made it of blight?
You've become so distant, yet still so full of mystery and you've made me like a firefly that is resistant to warmth.
I feel such pain every night, and torment; because you are gone, I am torn. For you were the only one, who erased this feign feeling, and my resent towards life.
Where are you, all of this time, for I have been waiting to lay your beating heart close to mine. Still, I will never forget the chance which could have been, because, maybe one day, we shall meet again.
December 25th, 2015 Christmas Poem: L'amour dans une crèche (Love in a manger)
This Day, this time, this moment, is where everything in life becomes nothing more than a chance for the broken to be repaired, the world to be free. For tonight, love was born in a manger, and all nature shall come alive! So may we sing, "Joy to the King!" Let us share, and care, and raise our voices high. For, tonight, let earth receive her king!
(Français) Cette Journée , cette fois , ce moment , est l'endroit où tout dans la vie devient rien de plus qu'une chance pour le cassé pour être réparé , le monde d'être libre . Pour ce soir , l'amour est né dans une mangeoire , et toute la nature entrera en vie ! Ainsi pouvons-nous chanter, " Joy to the King! " Laissez-nous partager , et les soins, et élever nos voix haute . Car, ce soir, laissez la terre recevoir son roi !
November 12th, 2015: Photography: Flower Photography pt 3
As you know, I LOVE to take pictures of various types of nature because I always feel at peace and freedom when I do. :) Honestly, I didn't think these photos would turn out as good as they did! The photos were taken about two Sundays ago at my local church;
October 16th, 2015 Story: Cracked But Not Broken: The Story of a Brick
"You are nothing more than just a cracked brick," they laughingly exclaimed.
Yes, I used to think that. As a matter of fact, the thought comes to my mind every so often. But then I remember a time, where that statement becomes nothing more than a whisper; nothing more than a thorn in the grave.
My story starts in a particular Sunday afternoon on 511 Pine St., when the leaves were orange and crisp, and the wind smelt of apple wood trees. I rest on a freshly painted brick house, with others just like me. Except that, I was born with a brick crack.
Yes, life was wonderful. Alas, those uplifting thoughts were short-lived ever since those two houses down by the street moved here .Of course, with their sumptuous straw windows, and their gleaming wooden floors; they bragged on themselves. As if they were better than every other house!
In those dark moments they led me to believe that I was not worth anything. At first, I tried to ignore them ; remembering that words can't hurt if you choose not to listen .
But, after a while, their heartless mockery hit me to the core; I started to believe their words. "With my cracked frame and dull color, I'm truly not worth anything", I thought to myself . Yes, those words had ever haunted me. And, on that certain day, I knew that my once happy life will never feel the same. Until, something amazing happened on 511 Pine St.; A wolf, came to our neighborhood. He addressed himself as the Big Bad Wolf, I believe.
He seemed to be hungry, and was specifically looking for three little pigs .(One of them was the one that found me!)
Then, he carried an angry stance, and yelled out to the neighborhood, "If you three little pigs don't come out now , I will huff, and puff, and blow your houses down!"
Surprisingly, he did! The first house was the straw house; so golden, so sorted, I could not believe it! The second one was the stick house; so high-maintenance, and solid, I was shocked as shocked can be.
Finally it came my house. I was nervous, knowing that I may not live much longer if the wolf came to blow me down.
But, what is this? He couldn't blow! It seemed impossible for him to do so. He huffs, and puffs, and huffs, and puffs! But it didn't work.
With frustration, The Big Bad Wolf finally leaves; and I along with the other bricks, are only left to feel relieved.
So that old and negative thought comes back to remembrance; but then I push it away; because I think of how I could have been gone forever that day, but my life was on solid ground.
And, every time that story reminds me that I'm worth more than I believe .And though I may be cracked, I'm never broken.
Might I stand in your presence, to ask of you a request; not so much of selfishness or greediness- but more less a burning soul, in need of rest. Due to my hollow heart, I am rot to the core. Yet more I crave for light; Jesus, I need a spiritual insight.
A revelation alone will not satisfy me, I need the creator of my bones to live in this temple, as you want it to be. With all respect, this request is simple.
Rain your spirit inside my soul, that the soil may overflow, that I should grow. Let not depths nor height destroy this desire; with open arms should I choose a higher calling, for I am falling.
Please open my hearts' door, and relight my candle to burn as brand new; and fill my poor soul to overflow in you.
It's past two o'clock a.m and I can't seem to rest. My thoughts and ideas are keeping me awake. Once again, Writing is in my head, I can't ignore this, our relationship is at stake.
The constant call, surely this must be a dream, but yet it is not, for one of my loves, "Write", is verily calling me.
So I get out of bed, and turn on the light, excitement from everywhere starts to rush through my veins. I then grab my pen and paper, and begin to write. At first it feels as though ideas are empty, then writer's block loses, and inspiration finally reigns.
Such words from my life, words from my heart, explode out of my mind, like a painter, finishing his abstract art.
The pen flows on the paper as fast as a waterfall, and sooner than expected, tiredness sets in. So I then look over at the finished work, I am proud with what God has inspired me with overall. Now I put up the paper as well as the pen, oh, I feel as overjoyed when I'm finished with it than the time when I first began!
I feel a bit saddened when it is time to leave, but then I remember that I will never break from Writing, as long God allows me to live, and it from me.
Oh look! See here! The roses are blooming. The beautiful course of all flowers are resuming.
Oh say! My my! The newborn birds are loudly chirping. The bees gladly buzz, the baby bunnies happily hop. Every single bestial, young and old are rejoicing for they have once again received their awakening.
Hooray! Glory! Spring is finally here. The winter has gone, oh what glorious cheer! Amen! Praise God! We once thought, "it won't be long 'till winter is gone." 'Still, we will sing to our king; for yesterday's last winter is today's first spring..
November 27th, 2014 Thanksgiving Poem: Since I found Christ; My testimony
Before I found Christ, my life was very dull. Nothing to constrain me, nothing to pull me through. Nothing to satisfy this constant hunger, this different thirst. Although I tried everything, life got from bad to worse.
But then I found this book, this book called the bible. It gave me all the answers to overcome my tests and my trials. Then I started reading more of this word, day by day, but one day the desire hit me so hard on my heart, I suddenly fell on my knees and started to pray.
Since that day, my life was changed. And I can truly testify, that I'll never be the same. And everyday I wake up, my heart craves for Jesus more and more. Oh, there's nothing more greater in this life, that you could ever be thankful for!
November 7th, 2014 Poem: Sacrifice So guys this was written, by God's grace about a year ago; I don't remember specifically the date, but I know it was written by me in early July of 2013. So I thought I'd share it with you; It's originally a song but can also be used as a poem as well. Enjoy!!
That day on Calvary, when Jesus died he saved and set me free. Free from Satan's chains, free from all his ways. Free from all the sin, that once lived within!
What have I done to deserve this? What have I done, for this purpose? Maybe it's your love, from above; or maybe it's new life- In disguise.
There once was a woman with no love in her life. She was almost stoned to die. Then Jesus came, and took away her shame; He said your problems are gone, go sin no more!
What have I done to deserve this? What have I done, for this purpose? Maybe it's your love, from above. Or maybe it's new life-in disguise.
That day remains today, so remember that great price that Jesus paid; For he did it for you, he did it for me. He did it with love, at Calvary.
Through the darkness, there is sunlight. Through the struggle, there is freedom. Through the depression, there is happiness. Through the hate, there is love. Through the pain, there is healing. And through the damage, there is restoration. And through it all, God is still there.
There once lived an orphan sparrow by the name of Marcus. But there was something different about this sparrow, for he was born with wounded wings.
He never could get his wings to cooperate with him, no matter how hard he tried to.
All the other birds were always laughing at him because he couldn't fly, and even called him names like 'wounded one', or ' flightless sparrow.'
The little sparrow was sick and tired of the animals making fun of him, so he decided that the next day, he would prove to them that he could easily fly just by jumping out of the nest, and spreading his wings into the air.
When night came, Marcus, the little sparrow kept thinking about his brilliant plan, and the shocked expression that would be on all the birds' faces once they seen him fly. With this thought, the little sparrow was so excited that it caused him to fall asleep.
Morning came and it was game time for the little sparrow. So He woke up, washed by the near pond, and ate some fresh worms from the cool soft soil in the back of the sap tree.
Then the little sparrow climbed back up the tree, stood on the tree branch, and widened his wings for take-off and he thought, "First I'll flap." So he flapped, and he flapped, and he flapped his wings with all his might..But he just couldn't do it.
He thought, "Maybe my wings are still wet from my bath this morning." So with all his might, he shook and he shook his wings.
Then he flapped and he flapped and he flapped his wings, but he still couldn't do it.
Then he thought, "Maybe I've been pricked by some thorns." So he searched and he searched his wings for any tiny thorns,
then he shook and he shook them. Then he flapped and he flapped and he flapped them,
but so again, he just couldn't do it. At this point he became a bit frustrated. Then he thought of a brilliant idea: maybe if he finally tried to jump out of the nest, then the
wind would catch him and spring his wings up for flight. So the little sparrow jumped out of the tree, hoping the wind would catch him.
But sadly instead, he painfully fell to the ground. The poor little sparrow was upset and in pain. For sure he thought his plan would work. For this reason,
all the other birds were laughing at him and teasing him. The poor little sparrow was so helpless. He felt even more ashamed that
he wasn't born with good working wings; To make matters worse, he started to think to himself that it was best if he were never born in the first place. Then the little Sparrow started to cry. His crying was so loud that he could be heard throughout the entire forest.
Suddenly forgetting about the laughing birds, and quieting down still with a few tears and a sniffled nose, he saw a bright shining light that came from the sky that glistened on the little sparrow.
The light was drawing closer to the sparrow. It looked as though it was an Angel from Heaven. Sure enough It was. The Angel came closer to the sparrow, and picked him up with his hands, and wiped his tears away.
With a soft touch from the Angel's hands, he whispered something inside the Sparrow's ears and said, "Marcus, why are you crying, my child?" Then Marcus began to explain, " I've tried everything to fly, but it just won't work. " Without any comment in reply to what the sparrow said, the Angel just answered back with the most softest but yet stern voice, and said,
"Oh, silly Marcus! If only you had faith. Now, spread your wings, and fly, and doubt no longer." and at that moment, an inexpressible feeling went over the sparrow, and the sparrow's wings felt as though they were brand new.
Then the Angel patted the sparrow on the back, placed him back on the ground, and silently, with a gleaming faithful smile, he vanished. The sparrow was astounded. He had never felt such a glorious presence before, only that that Angel had. It made even more tears flow from his eyes.
Becoming so excited, he stopped to think; He forgot to thank the Angel! So he looked around for the Angel, but the Angel was nowhere to be found.
So the little sparrow took the advice of the Angel, looked up at his wings, and began to flap them, and flap and flap. And Surprisingly in almost a few seconds, he was flying!
All the other birds were shocked about his healed wings. They didn't know how it happened because they couldn't see the light.
But it had touched their hearts to see that the little Sparrow was so happy. Even though they thought he could never fly, he still did. The best part about it, is that his wings were so strong that when fierce winds and very wet rains would come, his wings could endure the hardness of it all.
So the little sparrow, Marcus, flew away from the nest of doubt and unbelief, and went on to find forests where he could tell the living testimony for God's glory, and live on with a new, more victorious life.
You see friends...the Sparrow, Marcus in the story, represents us when we think we can do things on our own, and do it without God's will or do it in our own time and season when he didn't even say the first word. But it never works; so we fall down as a result.
The Angel, represents God; and it means that no matter how far we fall, he'll be there to reach out his hand to pick us up and say, "it's time to spread your wings and fly again." ` KEY SCRIPTURES: Phillipians 3:14, Phillipians 4:13, Matthew 10:29,
Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, I have been so caught up with life these past two weeks. Anyway, here is another inspired poem. Enjoy! Oh Grace, my love, please don't cry; for you are my joy divine. Please don't stay as you would be, for you are my eternity. Your hands, as tender as the morning dove. Your smile, as bright as the Angels above. When you laugh, it melts my heart, even when our moments are most dark. My love for you will never die, even those times, when our love is yet tried. For your heart is mine, and my heart is yours, and so time will hold my promise for you, forevermore.
Have you ever felt like there was something much more to your life than just...sitting there? Like, there's something that's calling your name, Something inside of you, waiting to manifest. So why sit there and override the thought of doing more with your life? Better yet the voice inside of you hungering for curiosity. But it's your decision to go beyond what you've only imagined. We all have a choice to make. Either to get out the chair, or stand still. Choose the first option: To do Something no one has ever thought of before, something that would change the world. Because we were meant for a higher purpose, to climb to even greater heights, to become brighter than the stars, to cross way above the horizon. To feel higher than the depth of the ocean waves, to stand further out than an eclipse, and way past the essence from the feeling of the word, "boundless". Yes, it is more possible than possible itself, because we were made for more than this. God made us for more than this.
Laugh. It makes low valleys rise. Love. It is the one element that holds us together. Dream. It takes you places above what limits can hold. And above all else, be yourself; for one of the best and most important parts in life isn't to blend in with the easily noticed crowd, but the easily noticed you.
When I look into your eyes, I see something far more greater than just a neutral look. More stranger than a peaceful expression, or a horrified one. It is incomprehensible, not to mention irresistible. It has a tint of understanding and uncanny. Even the mirror seems to question your appearance. Just one look into your eyes can tender a hardcore heart, or strengthen a delicate soul. The look in your eyes is so different, that you're easily misunderstood of who you are and what you are. Only time will tell about the peculiar look in your eyes.
The homeless man. Alone and hurt he sits in the corner of the street. Unable to change his difficult situation, People pass him by without stopping to think. ''Should I aid the suffering of a man and end his lamentation?''
The world seems to refuse to recognize his existence. Not caring about his story or past. Unable to recognize a soldier of substance. That was injured in a war fulfilling his task.
Now the countries he was fighting for has ignored His needs in a time of distress, even a house or a car or even food he cannot afford. No one wants to give him rest.
But in the homeless man's mind, he asks, “God, is this my trial, or my test?" Show me why you put me in this mess. Is this from beneath, or is this from above? Or could this be you, proving your love?
God answers him and says "this is not the end of you, this is the start of a new life. I've promised to never leave you, for I will always be by your side. "
So put away your worries, and forsake your stress. Remember that trying times always bring out your best. I know that you'll have many troubles from day to day; But just trust Me, you're perfected through this, so do not easily turn away.
“I give my life to you,” the homeless man confessed. “ My sins are gone, and I want to be blessed. I want a fresh start, a new light. Bless me, O lord, restart my whole life.”
God is pleased with this man, for he didn't even know, that he's predestinated to life, forever in his soul. The people that passed by him, seen a whole different man. For not any more homeless, and broken from the chains of oppression and sin.
Okay, so I've finally taken some more photography. The photographs you see here is as "Object Photography". Basically object photography is taking pictures of random objects in a clean setting, (If you didn't know that already).
July 6th, 2014 Floral Photography pt 1 Here's some of the pictures I've taken. It was pretty difficult to get a good angle, but, here it is! I especially like taking random shots of things; maybe a squirrel gathering his nuts, or even antique widgets. Even taking shots of people when they least expect it is fun as well.