I’m always thinking when I’m stargazing
Thoughts rush through my mind one after another
And I sit there, in silence
My lips never part
The insects chirp
Mosquitoes buz by
The stereo plays gentle folk songs
And the stars drift on
It’s amazing what you hear
When you just shut up
Learning is not just doing
But also listening
Then I ask God why he wants me here
And I ask him what part of him does he want to show through me
And I hope
I have faith that I am doing the right thing
According to him
The coffee is hot
The air is moist
Every breeze brings a whiff of fresh grass
Cool and refreshing
My dad is going through chemotherapy for cancer
And I regret my life choices
I wish I was more like him
Had I listened
And he is a good man
He earned a good life
And preferred his peace
But fought when he had to
There was a happy balance in everything he did
Raising kids
Providing for the family (my mother too, God bless her)
He did teach me a lot
More by his actions than his words
He was a living example
Bless him
I find human behavior incredibly fascinating
Everyone appears to be on autopilot with “things to do”
And I’m just standing there watching all the bustle
Hands reach out
They say “come on!”
And they try to pull me in
And they try to pull me in
And they try to pull me in
But they lose their grip
And keep going
And I’m still here
Greeting them all
Cygnus
Pegasus and Cassiopeia
Andromeda
Aries and Pisces
Triangulum
And here I am
Maybe it is I
Who passes them by…
Persius comes next
And I wonder
How each has a name
A story
A story
A story
Each one recognized
And given an image
Projecting on me
Tales of love
Of drama
Tales of life and death
Tales of curse
And I shiver
Tag: death
Untitled
I embraced a thorny hedge, and it stung me.
I kissed fire, and it burned me.
I walked hand-in-hand with joy, and it slipped away.
I pursued desire, but misdirected.
Now I sit in a wilderness,
A stranger with no home.
Empty hands,
Empty heart,
And a will
To stay alone.
Joy in Sorrow
Ecclesiastes 7:2 [ESV]
“It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
and the living will lay it to heart.”
Mourning reminds us of the transient nature of life. When we mourn, we realize that life is fleeting and elusive, and oh so delicate. Even enjoyable and memorable moments can be curiously elusive, yet mourning and grief can feel interminable. There’s a desire to go back in time, maybe change the circumstances, or to see that loved one just once more, yet these longings can be transformed from bitter sadness into joyous gratitude.
Consider what Solomon means when he writes, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting.” How can it be that happiness is found in sorrow and not in joy? What can be found in grief that we should count as joy? Perhaps our lack of wisdom lies in clinging to what we believe gives us joy rather than letting it go when the time comes, valuing the good times over the bad instead of welcoming both teachers into our lives. This involves an awareness of life’s fragility, taking a wider perspective on life and death, beginnings and endings, and how they relate beyond our initial perception of them. Accepting life for what it is and truly embracing the ebb and flow can bring us contentment and peace.
Alan Watts once said, “All clinging to life is an illusory hand grasping at smoke.” What could he have meant by this? Have you ever tried grasping a wisp of smoke? Now try it with only your imagination—impossible, right? Consider a photographer capturing a moment on film, then developing it and framing it. It could be a moment so precious and valued. However, the picture isn’t the moment, the memory isn’t the moment; the moment has passed. There is no way to hold onto it forever and stay in perpetual joy. And who would capture a mournful moment on film and seek to cherish it just as equally? It would seem necessary for a moment to be just that—momentary.
As we progress through life, we can learn to value both joy and sorrow the same, taking note of the lessons learned while experiencing them. Just as smoke slips through our fingers, so do the moments of life. Mourning helps us appreciate the impermanence of life and the importance of cherishing each moment. Warren W. Wiersbe writes in The Bible Exposition Commentary, “Laughter can be like medicine that heals the broken heart, but sorrow can be like nourishing food that strengthens the inner person.” So there really isn’t a requirement to take all sorrow for joy and vice versa, but to respect both and recognize their roles in shaping our journey. Embracing the full spectrum of our experiences allows us to grow and find deeper meaning in life.
At the end of Ecclesiastes 7:2, Solomon writes, “for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” He is calling for balance in seeing death and cherishing life. Psalm 90:12 reads: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” There should be a healthy respect for death and an appreciation for life, especially a life well lived. We are not to dwell solely on death, but to recognize it as a necessary part of life.
Take sorrow and grief;
hold them close.
Shape them into joy for that moment brief;
make peace with yourself and set them free.
Tomorrow the sun will rise again,
last night, no more to be.
Clouds
As they drift along, when you see a cloud, you say “that’s a cloud,” because you know what a cloud looks like. Though it would take many shapes; a warm rain, harsh hail, frigid snow, electrified and deadly. But it is still a cloud. Will you then say that one cloud is less beautiful than any other? Or that it does not belong or is misshapen? We welcome the rain and fear the storms. But the cloud does not discriminate; it does what clouds do. And so consider a human, you see someone, and say “that is another person.” But you don’t know what storms they may bring, what warm rain or cool shade they may offer, or whether they’re here to harm or to help. They are who they are, and they do what they do. Now look beyond the flesh and vapor, to see deeper, to see what’s behind it all; a beauty, invisible and mysterious. Beyond the hate, beyond the fear.
There is a fear in the unknown, a terrible anxiety.
How is a person like a cloud, or a cloud like a planet, or a planet like a galaxy? These all painted on one canvas for all to see. But this canvas, that which holds it all together, is unseen.
Does it scare you?
Or do you take comfort in it?
The patterns, the shapes, reminders both subtle and bold. Take a moment and have a closer look.
Clouds passing, one-by-one.
It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?
Now don’t be afraid, just breathe deeply and remember to let go.
“Regard yourself as a cloud.” – Alan Watts
Loss
Deep is the wound of emotional pain
when time has revealed to us again,
the things we think can be are not
nor ever to prosper past a thought.
Heavy the hearts of love’s victims lie
their dreams to be, no more to vie
to watch as a movie it all play out
for what good is it to cry about.
Deep is the wound of love’s painful sting
no happiness could it ever bring,
and time will show our true intent
as empty, selfish, malevolent.
In death we’ll see
that love can be
more than just physicality,
to end a life and end its strife
brings it closer to reality.
For in this realm is not
that which we have sought
for happiness, love, and peace,
each day I wait, quite patiently
for its bittersweet release.
Russell E. Taylor
