Hope is fulfillment deferred
A foray of the will
Tides that flow and ebb
A thought from the past bringing a smile
Hope is a child's voice
Asking questions, confident of answers
untamed, tumbling hair
Eyes so bright
Hope is admitting your wrong
Proving your humanity
Thoughts that burn
Unquenchable
Hope is a Man
A body pierced
Blood and water mixed
A divine remedy
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Space In-between
The space in-between, where dreams are spun but never realized where fantasies are conceived but inevitably die
Pictures of life that are different somehow, better, brighter, more beautiful, and fake
Dangerous are the creations of this in-between, just real enough to tease, but never true enough to taste
Sweetness indescribable and seeming of no end , but bitter bite of winter when trod under by experience
Somewhere in-between what is and what could be, people you think you know but not really
Carbon copy shells, that smile, wave, laugh, love, and lie
Stuck in-between prophecy and lunacy, the ideal of joy and the cruelty of fate
Life and death are bed-fellows, feasting tables laden in the middle of barren fields strewn with bones
In-between decision and action, such an easy place to be
Yet endlessly frustrating, ultimately debilitating
In-between emotions that ebb and flow with fury
Impossible to stem, here creating, here destroying
In-between good and evil, imagination and asphyxiation
Born to dream, but destined to fall short
All have encountered in-between, some perpetually, some only on occasion
Once visited, truth is clearer, but it is in some small way, wished incoherently false
Pictures of life that are different somehow, better, brighter, more beautiful, and fake
Dangerous are the creations of this in-between, just real enough to tease, but never true enough to taste
Sweetness indescribable and seeming of no end , but bitter bite of winter when trod under by experience
Somewhere in-between what is and what could be, people you think you know but not really
Carbon copy shells, that smile, wave, laugh, love, and lie
Stuck in-between prophecy and lunacy, the ideal of joy and the cruelty of fate
Life and death are bed-fellows, feasting tables laden in the middle of barren fields strewn with bones
In-between decision and action, such an easy place to be
Yet endlessly frustrating, ultimately debilitating
In-between emotions that ebb and flow with fury
Impossible to stem, here creating, here destroying
In-between good and evil, imagination and asphyxiation
Born to dream, but destined to fall short
All have encountered in-between, some perpetually, some only on occasion
Once visited, truth is clearer, but it is in some small way, wished incoherently false
A friend, G.K. Chesterton, works of literature, and life..Part 2
The Body
First, to clarify, the term "body" references the bulk of a work of literature and is not an allusion to the how many odd pounds of flesh, muscle, and bone that happen to house the human soul. In short, I speak of written text and not human anatomy.
There are many functions for the body of a work of literature. One of those main functions is character development and nuance. Generally, many of the main characters are introduced in the first several chapters, although this is certainly not always the case. It would be theoretically possible to read only the first several chapters and the conclusion of a work and get a very general sense of what happened in-between. However, the end result would be a disturbing lack of satisfaction and a fundamentally shallow understanding. The body of any text is there for a reason, to better inform the reader and allow he or she to develop a relationship with the characters and story-line. Each part of the body is crafted to guide the reader into a better understanding of each character's feelings, personality, and experience, as well as the overall theme. When the conclusion of any work is reached, it is as if the reader has taken a journey with each character and emerged better and more aware of human experience as a result.
The body of our lives is very similar to the body of a text. It is where we find ourselves, develop relationships with others, and learn about what purpose and meaning really entail. Major and minor characters pass through our lives, some merely remembered for one solitary conversation, others for years of investment and shared tears. Yet, all somehow significant in their influence.
There are peaks and valleys, highs and lows. But, just as in literature, it seems the deepest understanding stems from the times of suffering and heartbreak. Such times are what make us able to relate to the other characters that enter our lives, humanity understood through similar experience.
A good literary work is infused with artistic unity that leaves no fact insignificant. The author crafts and forms each section to cry testimony to his overarching purpose. The Author of Life crafted His story in the very same way. Every individual witnesses the glory and purpose of the Author through all He has created. This can be seen just as equally in a full and crimson sunrise or a beautiful and chaotic gale.
Yet, the difference, is that in the story of life individuals are given the choice to follow the Author's plan or to reject it. If indeed there is an Author of Life, it would only make sense to reason that entity would have a purpose for such a creation and that those involved in His story would find their ultimate calling and fulfillment when they are in right relationship with the author.
At some point, I will continue with a post on endings in literature and life. But, there may be some random interspersing of other material between that time and this. Or there may not be.
First, to clarify, the term "body" references the bulk of a work of literature and is not an allusion to the how many odd pounds of flesh, muscle, and bone that happen to house the human soul. In short, I speak of written text and not human anatomy.
There are many functions for the body of a work of literature. One of those main functions is character development and nuance. Generally, many of the main characters are introduced in the first several chapters, although this is certainly not always the case. It would be theoretically possible to read only the first several chapters and the conclusion of a work and get a very general sense of what happened in-between. However, the end result would be a disturbing lack of satisfaction and a fundamentally shallow understanding. The body of any text is there for a reason, to better inform the reader and allow he or she to develop a relationship with the characters and story-line. Each part of the body is crafted to guide the reader into a better understanding of each character's feelings, personality, and experience, as well as the overall theme. When the conclusion of any work is reached, it is as if the reader has taken a journey with each character and emerged better and more aware of human experience as a result.
The body of our lives is very similar to the body of a text. It is where we find ourselves, develop relationships with others, and learn about what purpose and meaning really entail. Major and minor characters pass through our lives, some merely remembered for one solitary conversation, others for years of investment and shared tears. Yet, all somehow significant in their influence.
There are peaks and valleys, highs and lows. But, just as in literature, it seems the deepest understanding stems from the times of suffering and heartbreak. Such times are what make us able to relate to the other characters that enter our lives, humanity understood through similar experience.
A good literary work is infused with artistic unity that leaves no fact insignificant. The author crafts and forms each section to cry testimony to his overarching purpose. The Author of Life crafted His story in the very same way. Every individual witnesses the glory and purpose of the Author through all He has created. This can be seen just as equally in a full and crimson sunrise or a beautiful and chaotic gale.
Yet, the difference, is that in the story of life individuals are given the choice to follow the Author's plan or to reject it. If indeed there is an Author of Life, it would only make sense to reason that entity would have a purpose for such a creation and that those involved in His story would find their ultimate calling and fulfillment when they are in right relationship with the author.
At some point, I will continue with a post on endings in literature and life. But, there may be some random interspersing of other material between that time and this. Or there may not be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)