of love

it is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.
it is not the strong who need grace, but the weak.
it is not the rich who need compassion, but the poor.
it is not your friends who need mercy, but your enemies.

it is not pity that is asked of you, but Love.

hypocrisy

when the world is too much, when my proud truths are naught but lies, what then? who will accept this shadow of a man? when the heart does not reflect the ideals proclaimed boldly and loudly, when the facade crumbles under the burning persistence of the racing world, where is the freedom, and where is my honor? where the prestige consumes the love, and the bitterness exceeds the mercy, there lies the fallen man, the broken man.

but sing, my soul, of the one who is not the shadow. the one whose truths are real, and whose love is impractical. his heart is for all, and his gaze never falters. may he take this twisted life and place it on a firm foundation.

beyond today

how can you say goodbye when the world gives you no guarantee of a reunion? for truly, this world gives you nothing but a breath of life to use as you will. who knows what will happen tomorrow? Tomorrow has never been steady; she is the most fickle of things. when she ushers herself into your life, how do you know that your loved one has not already passed out of your reach?

lacrymosa

do you dare touch the shards of a broken world?

look at it. there it lies, shattered by our manhandling, our roughness, our greed. see the genocides, the wars, the lies that have warped it. see it cry in agony and beg for mercy as we continue to let the hate bend and twist the very matter this world is built on. see its scars, the wounds that never healed. it writhes as it continues to birth evil.

can you stand by? can you indifferently watch this world in its neverending pain? will you not reach out? though it will hurt to grasp those bitter shards, will you not reach out?

music of the heavens

such a nice day today. just sat for a bit in the sun. the Sun is such an interesting thing. it, or maybe he or she, radiates light, which travels over millions of miles of vacuum and still manages to impart heat and light to this little planet. you'd think it'd lose something across those millions of miles, but i guess not. or if it does, we unfortunately don't know what we're missing out on. maybe the Sun sings, and its song just never makes it here. maybe the stars sing, and they're just too far for us to hear. then again, maybe it does make it. maybe, the music of the heavens lies right above our heads and we, in our self-centered way, just miss out.

simple vervacity

live like you mean it. sounds cliche doesn't it? and it is. a truth transformed into banality. but what is 'cliche' except a recognition of the lasting power and meaning of the phrase? so i'm going to take that phrase and DO it. so few of us do. we say we live for life itself and then throw ourselves into meaningless routines and the neck-breaking pace of supposed progress. progress to what? if you 'progress' all your life but fail to appreciate life for what it is, have you really accomplished? have you really participated in the human experience?

so i'm going searching for simple vervacity. i'm going to look for truth, beauty, life, verve, and vivacity in the human experience we call life. i don't expect to succeed all the time, but i'm going to reach ever farther and at least grasp the dust of the heavens. so do not expect to see my heart lying in the past or wandering the future. find it in the evanescent here and now, embracing happiness and pain, joy and sorrow, the sound and the fury. i intend to live.