Monday, 1 November 2010

grace...

I struggle with this sometimes and try as I might, I don't understand this word:

Grace.

A small word, one that is used in day to day vocabulary.

I don't understand it, but I do know this.

That it cannot be earned.
That it is given freely.
That it is given to the undeserved.
That is immeasurably powerful.

That Grace redeems and it saves.
It is a second chance, a third, a forth, even a fifth if need be.

I don't know the word, I don't understand it,
but I am grateful for second chances.


Friday, 29 October 2010

redemption...

you ever wonder why you're still here?
why? even after everything you've been through?
even after your will has been broken and that last step you took was meant for oblivion?

maybe...maybe you're still here for a reason.

maybe you're still here for redemption.

maybe in your redemption, another can find his.

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

anything you want it to be...


This is you.
This is me.
This is everything that could be.
This could be everything you ever wanted.
This could be anything, everything you want it to be.

Believe it.

Monday, 25 October 2010

trying to string broken words through fractured feelings...

and i will sing along...


Falling slowly, eyes that know me
and I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
and I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
and warred with yourself
It's time you won

Take this sinking boat, and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice, you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly, sing your melody
I'll sing along...

Saturday, 23 October 2010

i don't know...

I don't know where I will be in a year.

I don't know what I will doing then.

I don't know if I will enjoy it.

I don't know if I will want it by then.

I don't know if I will still be here.

I don't know if everything will be the same.

I don't know if I want it to be.

I don't know who I'll be.

I don't know..and it's killing me...

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

a pocket full of bones...

I have this closet, and I have not opened it for a long time.
Few know of its existence, even fewer have seen it.

I don't remember what it holds, but maybe it is because I choose not to.
Or, maybe, I dare not to.

The key that opens the locked drawers have long been lost..or maybe it was misplaced on purpose.

The drawers hold nothing much, but, oh, how much import they do hold.

A shred of this and a piece of that. A bottle of this and a sliver of that.
A shard of a dream and a rag full of blood.

I will weigh it down and bury it at sea, locking it anew and throw away the key.

But I know that in doing so, I will never find redemption.


Monday, 11 October 2010

twisted message...

You know, as a writer, I get irritated (heck, I think anyone will be irritated) when someone misquotes me, or when someone twists what I write out of perspective into their very own.

Of course, that said, some of what I write (or anyone) is definitely open to the reader's concluding prowess...

But again, having said that, when it is a clear, black and white thing, it's definitely irritating when that happens.

And then it made me think (I do that infrequently, but yes, I do).

How many of us have read words in the Bible, and construed it to fit our own end?

For example, in the Bible it says to leave your parents and go with your wife. And I personally know people who leave them entirely out of their lives because 'it is in the Bible'.

Or that 'tattooing is a sin!!' because in the Bible it is said don't mark your skin, but again, it is in their context. 
Or when you read a verse, and go on to explain that 'to me, this verse means this and that'.

Why don't we read a book and try to understand it in the author's original context without messing up the message in our minds?

But then..if the message changes a life (for the better), even if misconstrued, will the message not have served its purpose?

note: this is one of those posts where the reader can draw his/her own conclusion. and it will be interesting to know what it is, so drop me a message or something...

Saturday, 9 October 2010

rain beautiful, beautiful rain...

For as long as I remember, I have loved the rain...

I love the smell of rain, right before it pours and the smell of ozone when there is lightning...
I love the way a drizzle sprinkles diamonds in one's hair
I love the piercing, needle points of pain that stings when it rains heavily.
I love running through it and I imagine myself a ghost, unseen behind a liquid curtain...

There is something holy about the rain.
All creatures hunker down and wait it out.
The world slows down and, in my opinion, goes back to its original pace.
All the dirt, all that is wrong and all the uncleanness are washed away.

And if I stand in it, I'd like to think the same will happen to me.

And if you read this, one day, I'd like to take you with me, and we will stand in the rain, hand in hand...