Oh, hi! Come on in! Don't bonk your head on the doorway--it's a little low. So good to see you!
Tea or coffee? I'll just be a minute... won't you sit by the fire?
Oh, my visitors on the sofa? These are a few old friends of mine--very old friends. A couple of stories--a couple of poems--a couple of songs. And I think a drawing or two. They dropped by for a visit--haven't seen them in a while--and I find I didn't remember them quite accurately. Somehow I thought they were different--but then maybe I've changed.
This is the first--"And the Stars Remained". Why don't you get acquainted while I go find you a drink?
Showing posts with label Light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Light. Show all posts
12.31.2009
12.21.2009
Noel (which just so happens to be part of my name...)
Sit still.
The silence
wants
a word.
...
Christmas.
The lull before the storm.
The time of preparation,
of promises kept
and of hopes lost.
Of all our dreams crashing
around our heads
and our souls coming to life.
Christmas.
The times we'll never have again
but have forever.
The warmth of reconciliation.
The icy distance of self.
The cheer-coated pinpricks.
The awkward "family" hug--
but it's alive
warm-blooded.
Christmas.
Songs--
of hope and of despair.
Of the burden falling off--
and realizing the burden was there.
Christmas.
Make room.
Scoot over.
Move out of the way for the King.
Christmas.
Let go.
Christmas.
Watch.
You'll never see this again.
Ever.
You can't rewind, fast-forward--
this is now.
Life is now.
Where will the Christ-child be this year?
The silence
wants
a word.
...
Christmas.
The lull before the storm.
The time of preparation,
of promises kept
and of hopes lost.
Of all our dreams crashing
around our heads
and our souls coming to life.
Christmas.
The times we'll never have again
but have forever.
The warmth of reconciliation.
The icy distance of self.
The cheer-coated pinpricks.
The awkward "family" hug--
but it's alive
warm-blooded.
Christmas.
Songs--
of hope and of despair.
Of the burden falling off--
and realizing the burden was there.
Christmas.
Make room.
Scoot over.
Move out of the way for the King.
Christmas.
Let go.
Christmas.
Watch.
You'll never see this again.
Ever.
You can't rewind, fast-forward--
this is now.
Life is now.
Where will the Christ-child be this year?
10.18.2009
A Pink Kink In My Think
I think pink
And you think green
I wonder
Did God make us different colors?
Living color?
She turns red
And he is blue
A living rainbow
Made of souls of every hue
Living color?
...
Thinking about light, thinking about color... and how human nature correlates.
Light comes into our eyes in waves--longer waves produce certain colors while shorter waves result in others. Slight differences in frequency--how many times a wave oscillates per second--and wavelength--the length of one oscillation--drastically change the color of the light we see.
Pick a color--any color. I pick green. How many separate shades of green exist? How many types? They all differ, to some degree. But still something about them is the same.
I find certain similarities in humanity. Though all people think in generally the same manner, each individual thinks within his or her own "language"--the unique thought pattern deeply ingrained into each person's nature. "Languages" differ slightly according to different personalities.
I wonder: if we were able to see ourselves in a fresh manner--to see the entity of our being in a new dimension--might we each be distinctly different colors?
I think of louder personalities as orangey-reds, bubbly social butterflies as perky yellows, and quieter spirits as deep, dark blue. No two match exactly, but they may share similarities.
My dad gave me a strange look the other day as I was telling him a funny quip from a friend; apparently I was unconsciously copying this person's facial expressions, tones, and mannerisms quite accurately.
But that's how I relate; how we all must relate. I translate my thoughts to others' "languages"--even in email sometimes. For instance: tend to leave out the subjects of my sentences when talking with Claviger. And, like when I'm talking to like one of my rather like trendy friends, like I add all these like "likes" like into my sentences!!! (Not to mention the triple exclamation points...) Sometimes... I talk... slightly, um. Slower. AndothertimesItalktwentymillionwordsaminute.
It's as if I change the frequency, length, or pattern of my thoughts to match others' thoughts.
Sometimes people tell me just to be myself--to speak my own language. But I beg to differ. How in the world am I supposed to relate to anyone else if I don't speak their language? Not to demean the significance of knowing one's self--but what is the purpose of speech if it does not communicate something? And translating my rather scatterbrained thoughts into the method of someone else's thinking patterns usually benefits my own understanding of what I think.
Somewhat like tuning to the right radio frequency to get rid of the static.
So I wonder; am I losing sight of my own "language"? Am I supposed to, as I seek to understand God's thoughts? Does contact with others shape my "language"? Should or can I let it? What do you think?
And you think green
I wonder
Did God make us different colors?
Living color?
She turns red
And he is blue
A living rainbow
Made of souls of every hue
Living color?
...
Thinking about light, thinking about color... and how human nature correlates.
Light comes into our eyes in waves--longer waves produce certain colors while shorter waves result in others. Slight differences in frequency--how many times a wave oscillates per second--and wavelength--the length of one oscillation--drastically change the color of the light we see.
Pick a color--any color. I pick green. How many separate shades of green exist? How many types? They all differ, to some degree. But still something about them is the same.
I find certain similarities in humanity. Though all people think in generally the same manner, each individual thinks within his or her own "language"--the unique thought pattern deeply ingrained into each person's nature. "Languages" differ slightly according to different personalities.
I wonder: if we were able to see ourselves in a fresh manner--to see the entity of our being in a new dimension--might we each be distinctly different colors?
I think of louder personalities as orangey-reds, bubbly social butterflies as perky yellows, and quieter spirits as deep, dark blue. No two match exactly, but they may share similarities.
My dad gave me a strange look the other day as I was telling him a funny quip from a friend; apparently I was unconsciously copying this person's facial expressions, tones, and mannerisms quite accurately.
But that's how I relate; how we all must relate. I translate my thoughts to others' "languages"--even in email sometimes. For instance: tend to leave out the subjects of my sentences when talking with Claviger. And, like when I'm talking to like one of my rather like trendy friends, like I add all these like "likes" like into my sentences!!! (Not to mention the triple exclamation points...) Sometimes... I talk... slightly, um. Slower. AndothertimesItalktwentymillionwordsaminute.
It's as if I change the frequency, length, or pattern of my thoughts to match others' thoughts.
Sometimes people tell me just to be myself--to speak my own language. But I beg to differ. How in the world am I supposed to relate to anyone else if I don't speak their language? Not to demean the significance of knowing one's self--but what is the purpose of speech if it does not communicate something? And translating my rather scatterbrained thoughts into the method of someone else's thinking patterns usually benefits my own understanding of what I think.
Somewhat like tuning to the right radio frequency to get rid of the static.
So I wonder; am I losing sight of my own "language"? Am I supposed to, as I seek to understand God's thoughts? Does contact with others shape my "language"? Should or can I let it? What do you think?
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