Sky Blue

Apparently this is my 100th blog... Happy Anniversary? whatever the appropriate salutation may be, I had a thought a few days ago which tucked itself into the side of my mind. Consequently, it is not as fluid or eloquent as the first time it rang in my head, but such are the words which become damaged by days of pondering.

While walking down a lane lined by trees and curling into the same trees, I noticed a magnificently blue sky, and began to wonder upon its blue-ness. I declined the scientific explanation in hopes of finding a child-like answer to the question, "why is the sky blue?" Well, it is blue for many reasons.

First, it is blue because blue so perfectly complements the greeen of the earth (even when the trees turn yellow, red, and then brown, it is still a perfect match).

Then it is blue to block the stars during the day so that you may realize that life is what occurs everywhere around you; that it is here, on earth, and so that you may focus on those things around you.

The only star to be seen during the day is the sun. This is so that you may come to understand, daily, that life is dependant on something other than yourself. And the moon also, which guides the tides, can be seen. This is so you may understand that not everything is in your control- there is a greater force which guides us.

Then this perfectly matched blue sky, which by day conceals the depths of the universe, dissolves as the sun sets so that you may wonder upon the stars before you go to bed. And the blue sky remains hidden until morning so that your dreams my have no limits, that you may be without bounds before it gently reminds, with the help of the sun, that there are things here that need to be done.

A Great Canyon

Echoing in fading rhythmic tides: a shout dissipates into a quiet space. This is my canyon. I hold it in my back pocket. Someone will read it (maybe) someday. But being read isn't the point. Being heard isn't either. The point is to release the word like a jumper into a great canyon. And when the echoes have faded, and the vibrations of the words have dissipated. And when your words can only be found in the law of conservation of information (or the internet), then the canyon has served a purpose.

It is true. I make myself naseous on the things I see that I have done. It is no wonder to me that I make others naseous also.

I am a weak individual, unaware of what lies in the depths of me; afraid to go exploring- for those things near the surface can only pale in comparison the ugliness of the things that lie beneath (right?) There is a great depth that is the soul, it is unsearchable and unknowable (even the oceans of earth aren't completely known, and a soul is far more vast than the oceans)

I do love, but not as I should.

I am deserving of love, but don't really think so. I confound myself in this.

I don't know. Of the few things I do know, this is what I know best.

I find it easy to forgive. Certainly a sign that I am need of so much of it. They say a minister preaches what he needs most. If I were a preacher, this would be my message every sunday.

What I love is who you are.(what you have shown yourself to be)
What I love is the amount of you I have yet to know.
What I love is waking up next to you, even when I've failed and you're mad.
I could holler in this canyon a million things I love about you, and I just might, knowing that through the law of conservation of information it will be kept and held by the universe, until it ends, and known throughout the stars that I love you.