Be My Release

Once, I let my writing be my release. Anxiety and fear would flee at the flow of my pen. The ink seemed to drip, cover anything unwanted. In a second, I could recall a fresh breeze, a warm summer day to mind. Oh, to be free again. To let tears stain my cheeks and pain flow free. I am tired of my well-built, gilded cage. I shall not sing with restraint. Once, I flew free. My mind soared with the birds. No boundary was in sight. Innocence held me. Innocence does not prove ignorance. For I fear, in my “knowledge”, I have become ignorant. Innocence gives freedom. It cannot be lost. Some just have this innate faith. This faith cannot be destroyed. Building, remaining, sustaining, captivating. No. Faith cannot be lost in the innocent. 

A Night of Twisted Sheets

Silent wishes

Dancing in the night

Swaying above my bed

Taunting, teasing

No rest to be found

Coffee stains, smeared mascara

Quiet tears, dusty paths erased

Floating on a cloud

Does he know?

Can he know?

I feel like a burden

Always there, taking away

Don’t let me destroy the dream

Impossible seems so possible

But it takes work

Do you want it to be possible?

My pencil snaps with my words

My eraser cannot change it

Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

Are you really willing to take the chance?

Pain will heal and time will pass

But loneliness lasts forever

I would rather be broken

Than to never let it be

...

I am scared it is real.

The Spill That Started It All

It drips down my paper

Runs down the spine

Covering everything

With words that are mine

Painful teardrops, sullen years

My pen brushes down all those awful fears

Yet smoothly, elegant

Not a bit refrained

Come words of hope

And joy unstrained

With every brush and stroke

The ink spills all to know

Black characters on pure white

My heart is there to show

Beauty is found in the blackest mark

No mistake can society condemn

My ink spills downward, down the page

It is for me…for her… for him

Beautiful Stranger

What a beautiful day! I am sitting outside on my bench, the sun warming my face, and the crisp air clearing my mind. Leaves are piled up on the walkway and the trees that yielded these treasures are dancing slightly in the breeze. I always feel so alive in these moments. On days like this, I get the idea that all of creation was not made to be productive, but beautiful. Maybe, as humans, our purpose is less about what we can accomplish in life, but more about how we can display God’s glory. Isn’t that how we reach other people to Christ anyways? I am not saying we should sit around and be lazy. Sometimes I think that our way of being lazy for God is by being busy for the world. I get so focused on money, relationships, food, and goals. They consume all of my thoughts and time. Yet, I feel so empty when I chase after these. It is in the moments that I pause and stare at the blue sky holding white wisps of clouds, that I am overwhelmed by God’s awesome power. Every raindrop, every leaf, every natural thing is so beautiful. On a creepy note, have you ever just sat at an airport, or maybe a mall, and watched people? My favorite place to people watch is at Niagara Falls. People are so beautiful. Every expression, every gesture, every spoken word, and lifted eyebrow tells a story. Again, I know this sounds creepy, but I find people so amazing. There is something deep that just seems to connect everyone. Even in the midst of hundreds of people, all speaking different languages, all with different destinations, all immersed in their own life, there is still this undeniable bond between every human. For example, when I stare at the moon, I wonder who else is looking at the moon. There is a connection between a stranger, somewhere, and me. Maybe that stranger is lost and lonely. Maybe he or she is filled with joy and complete. The stranger could live in a mansion or maybe a shack. No matter their life story, one detail is still the same as mine. This person is staring at the moon, intensity filling their souls, and, in that moment, our hearts meet. Moments like this are full of beauty. The reason? We were made in God’s image. Even with grime, pain, and turmoil covering our faces, we can’t help but shine a bit. So, here I am sitting on my bench, wondering if anyone else has paused today. I wonder if anyone else has let God warm their faces and calm their minds. Students pass me on my bench, rushing to their next class. Do any of them notice the beauty that is right under their feet? Do they notice the beauty that clothes their ceiling with royal blue? Do they notice the beauty that softly blows on their face, smoothing away all worry?

Hello, stranger. I know you are looking at the bright blue sky. I know you hear the happy song of birds sitting in the swaying trees. Hello, stranger. I know you hear the crunch of leaves beneath your feet. I know you see the clouds dotting the peaceful sky. Hello, stranger.

You are beautiful.