I rock. Literally. It's a habit. Some think it may stem from some form of Autism or something. I didn't always rock though. I think it's from other things...
In the dark I like to listen to my music and imagine that I'm a panther running through the jungle. I run at an uncanny speed for what seems like forever. In life, I can run fast but I can't run for very long. I can only ignore so much physical pain. But I dream.
Long before I ever read the Bible, I thought of myself as a watchman, a protector. So, when I read this, it gave me an indescribably intimate feeling. It's my favorite scripture:
Isaiah 40:29 He is giving to the tired one power; and to the one without dynamic energy he makes full might abound. 30 Boys will both tire out and grow weary, and young men themselves will without fail stumble, 31 but those who are hoping in Jehovah will regain power. They will mount up with wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not tire out.”
The Beating...
The speeding feet in the pounding rain. The perpetual beat of a heart. Pounding blood. There is a cave in my heart.
Stepping out of the rain, into the shadows, the noise transitions from the wash of the cloudburst to the flow of your anxious blood. Then to the pounding of your heart. It's so loud. Terrifying, yet trusted.
The roar is overwhelmed by the beating. The beating of dark membranes. You have disturbed them. You are enveloped by their plethora of leather-silk wings. Neither bird nor beast, the ostracized. Bats. After they have settled, you see the moonlight reflected in two tapetums. The truth in those eyes, is it familiar to you? Or should you be frightened? How many lives has this creature lived?
Come in, friend. Step closer, enemy. You were washed by the rain, rinsed by the darkness, dried by the wings, and clothed. By a purpose.
Am I a panther? Am I the dusk?
Stepping out of the rain, into the shadows, the noise transitions from the wash of the cloudburst to the flow of your anxious blood. Then to the pounding of your heart. It's so loud. Terrifying, yet trusted.
The roar is overwhelmed by the beating. The beating of dark membranes. You have disturbed them. You are enveloped by their plethora of leather-silk wings. Neither bird nor beast, the ostracized. Bats. After they have settled, you see the moonlight reflected in two tapetums. The truth in those eyes, is it familiar to you? Or should you be frightened? How many lives has this creature lived?
Come in, friend. Step closer, enemy. You were washed by the rain, rinsed by the darkness, dried by the wings, and clothed. By a purpose.
Am I a panther? Am I the dusk?
THE PLAN for Labels
CHARACTERS are influential people in my tales.
BROWN is tales from a span of ages.
WHITE is tales from age 0-7.
RED is tales from age 8-14.
ORANGE is tales from age 14-21.
YELLOW is tales from age 22-28.
GREEN is tales from age 29-35.
BLUE is tales from age 36-42.
INDIGO is tales from age 43-49.
PURPLE is tales from age 50-56.
BLACK is tales from age 57-63.
Grey is an insight into how these tales may be affecting me.
BROWN is tales from a span of ages.
WHITE is tales from age 0-7.
RED is tales from age 8-14.
ORANGE is tales from age 14-21.
YELLOW is tales from age 22-28.
GREEN is tales from age 29-35.
BLUE is tales from age 36-42.
INDIGO is tales from age 43-49.
PURPLE is tales from age 50-56.
BLACK is tales from age 57-63.
Grey is an insight into how these tales may be affecting me.
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Monday, March 10, 2008
Born Free
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1 Responses:
Rocking is comforting - that's why we have rocking chairs.
Personal scripture verses can also be a great source of comfort. A friend's pastor (who had memorized the bible) would pray about each child in their confirmation class and bless each one with a scripture. Years later, all of them (that I talked to) had found that verse to be particularly meaningful throughout their lives.
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