For the third time, I called out to God and made a request, and immediately what I asked of Him happened--in the very next second. The resulting emotions are overwhelming beyond belief. I hope you've experienced the power of prayer.

As I was trying to pick the focus for this blog (I had absolutely no idea what kind of blog it was going to be. I just wanted a blog.), I did a number of searches on google like: “I need a goal” and “How to pick a goal”, “What should I do?”. It made me wonder how many people also do that. I needed to realize that I can’t let someone pick it for me. I don’t mean that I couldn’t take inspiration from what someone else has done; after all, there is no such thing as a completely fresh idea... is there? But, being inspired by someone or something is different then taking someone else’s direction and pretending it’s mine.

That concept discovered, I had some difficult thinking to do. I’ve tried things like this before, and it was always after I saw what someone else was doing, and I wanted to “be like them” (and yes, that is how this blog originally began). I saw the success they had with it, how many people were reading them, and I wanted that. But I never finished what I started. Maybe that wasn’t just because it wasn’t my idea, but that definitely had something to do with it.

I suppose I should admit that even this is about to begun after I have, again, seen what someone else did. Julie Powell. That’s right, of Julie and Julia. I don’t know if that means I’m once again doomed to failure. It did make me realize, however, that like Julie, I never finish anything. I have no goals, no plans, no pursuits. I don’t do anything.

I know everybody wants to “leave their mark on the world”, and maybe that’s not even what I’m looking for. This is for me. Hopefully it will be something that will give me focus and... maybe something more. And, if it does come to mean anything at all to someone else, that will be the icing on the cake.

I don't yet know what will become of this. For now, I'm just praying that there will be a new entry tomorrow.

You are beautiful.

Go on.
Splash in the puddles.
You don't need to dance in the rain.
Just play in it.

You lay, cold hands pushing
away cold dawn.
The only glow, of fireflies,
it doesn’t reflect.
You stare down to contemplate,
you fold your hands,
you bow your head and
doze off,
and your dreams are rosy;
filled with birds, sunshine,
horizons.
Raise the moon and you
wake, sprawled
across dew and curtained by
thickets. Midnight.
A few more hours to lie
on the silent pavement,
weave in an out of consciousness:
the first is black, the second is red.
A few more hours to
not be found. Keep on.
Fight the break of dawn.

Once, Yesterday fled from the cold hearth,
into the arms of Dawn.
She took him in, and put him at peace;
from him she drew Day. He gives her children:
Dusk, Midnight, Tomorrow, for all of Time, her
ancient father.

Take your Time.

True to love they say are
Romeo and Juliet,
Dido and Aeneas.
But show me the story of self-sacrifice,
not for one's own sake, but
for the other.
Don't tell me eloquent despair and
heroic death.
Teach me how to love not by
another's leave, and not
too well. But enough.
For tonight, the happy ending is not
as simple as on other days.
Tonight it is the world as we know it.