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.