Peace Flutters

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Peace Flutters

An illusion of obtainability

Just out of reach

Sometimes brushing my finger

But only in that fateful moment

Before something falls

I drown inside of myself 

Tears run

Wishing for something 

For peace

Poem 190 ~ 12/29/2013

     My soul reaches out to those in pain.  Those who have lost family, friends, or acquaintances.  Every turn of the earth clocks pain.  Humans forget to have humanity.   Pleasure is gained from hurt.  Hatred is confused with religious zealousness.  Fear of difference fuels violence. To those in France, I extend my heart to you.  I mourn with you.  To all the world, I cry for peace. 

     People can do such beautiful things.  How strange it sometimes feels to see the other side of the coin. 

     Why can we not have peace? Why can we not learn to respect differences and not hurt others because of them? When will we learn to treat others as ourselves?  How can me learn to all love? 

     No matter how much we wish... peace is an idea.  It is never a true and global reality.  The fact that so many strive for it is folly and beauty in itself.  We reach out hoping fingers to those in pain, to those who hurt others, to those who love, and those who hate.  We hope for the change that cannot be.  Yet, by doing so we make our own reality that much better.  We help those who we can touch.  Peace and love, no matter how delusional it may seem, is something worth reaching for.  For even though it may never rest upon the world all at once, we can create something worthwhile. 

     I drown in myself, for I mourn with those who mourn.  

     Let us mourn, hope and reach for peace... together. 

Feeling Neverland

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     Colleges have begun to flood my email and snail mail with information about their programs. They send me explanations of why their program is "just right" for me.  Many of my good friends have already moved off to college, or to go on two year missions for our church. And as these two things align, I realize an ever growing fear.  A fear of growing up.

     I don't mean I have a fear of growing old.  Age is superfluous in my mind.  I don't fear my face being lined with wrinkles, nor my hands becoming blemished and shaking. What I fear is having to leave my childhood home, leaving friends for college, and forgetting to enjoy simple things because of responsibility.  To fear. It hurts. 

Anxiety runs like veins 

Like nerves 

Linked to brain 

To heart

Pushing to be known 

Running on it's own

Logic wishing to call

But the feeling coursing 

Love being twisted

To fear and ache

Happiness being turned

To withered leaves

Ready to fall

My heart

Yearns and calls

Into the chasm 

Of faith

And somewhere

The thread is tied

I hold 

Despite 

The pain of fear

The pain of anxious everything

Poem 214 ~ 3/18/2015

     I feel like Wendy Darling.  One foot in the nursery, and one out the door.  Stuck on the stories, playtime, and dreams of childhood.  Yet, working on gaining a career, living on my own, and attempting to become a thoughtful adult.  In some ways I am ready to move into the world. Still in others... I'm trying to find Neverland.

     The draw of stuck time pulls, but the reality of moving through life appeals.  I may feel Neverland wishing to be near.  But to grow up, that shall be my awfully big adventure. 

Making a Difference ~ Guest Post

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How do you want to make a difference?

Here is what _CarvedWords_ believes you should be working on to make a difference: 

     One way or another, we all wish that we're able to make a difference in this world even by a bit if it is possible to us. There are loads of everyday things I'd like to change if it were possible for me. 

     Education has limited itself to textbooks and syllabus. Students are only taught to solve the equations and write answers as they are expected in the examinations. Students can be seen getting good marks with grades higher then expected. They can answer all the questions which relate to the textbook. But what about what's outside? What's actually going on in the real world? The more they indulge themselves into the textbooks, the more their creativity gets limited. 

     Education is meant to make learners. Not to destroy the artist within them. We can spot students conquering heights of success, but with that seems to come a low creativity. At the end of the day, a person won't be proud of the position he has in a multinational company. All he would need is creativity to fill his life with enthusiasm and joy. Education should bring out an artist in a student, because every student has got one talent or another. Teachers should encourage the talent within them. Students should be taught to be passionate towards their goals. 

     I don't blame the system as a whole, neither do I have any offense with the knowledge and the quality of it the education is providing students. I just wanna say that even after these efforts there still remains a huge gap gap between education and creativity. We as a society have our responsibility towards making the change that is needed. We've got to do something to reduce this gap, we gotta build a strong bridge between both education and creativity. 

     If I could make a difference, I would like people to change their mindset towards education, making it free from all the chains it has been tied to. Creating a strong bond between education and creativity. Giving this world creative minds rather than those with high IQ's. Making this world colorful, making it a better place. 

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This is how Words_In_Air thinks you can make a difference: 

     The language of love. Make wide spaces in your heart. Life gets so chocked up, kindness so lost, love slips by unseen. Smile at a stranger, help an old lady carry her shopping, offer to cook a meal for someone who's sick. Volunteer at your local church, hospice, old age home, or orphanage. Read to someone who's disabled. It's good to donate something to a worthy cause, but what people crave is human interaction. Look into their eyes, listen with attention to their stories. Take an interest in their personal lives. That smelly beggar down the road? He just wants kindness from you. Ask him his name, give him a compliment, bless him with a pair of shoes, or something to eat and drink. You don't have to strike a conversation with everyone you meet, but the next time you are waiting in line, greet someone and smile. Buy a small chocolate for the checkout girl and bless her. 
It's the little things! 

     If you bless others, you yourself will be blessed. 

Heart in Hand

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Talking with a friend, we found ourselves discussing the state of his relationship with his girlfriend.  As we spoke he stated, "I just feel like I just keep giving my heart, but it isn't being accepted. Obviously it is, since she and I are dating... But it's like I am giving my everything, and they aren't appreciating it."  The response I gave him was one that I have found all too often to be true.  With friends and people I truly trust I have encountered the following.

    You extend your hands, offering up your heart, and the other person looks at it.  They see it, and they say they like "that part" and "this part."  You offer them the whole of your heart, and they simply like or love parts.  So, they accept the whole thing.  But they are truly only accepting certain parts and pieces of you.  It hurts because you want them to take it... but really you want them to look at your offering and for them to look up into your eyes and say "I love it. I love all of it. Thank you!"

    At the time I wasn't dating anyone, so I felt this conversation was more for my friend’s benefit.  However, as I thought more about it I realized... I am both the offerer and the person who says, "I like this part."  I offer my heart to myself, and my whole life I have never looked into my eyes.  I have looked at the heart and told myself that I only like pieces.  I like when I produce a good poem.  I love when I manage to make someone smile.  But, I have never looked over my whole heart, looked into myself, and said, "I realize your humanity, and that you are weak like all others are at times. Yet, I love you.  I will love the whole of you."

    I am my own hurt.  Everyday I cannot help but have my heart in sight of my own judgment.  And every day I judge.  I don't think I am the worst of people, but I sometimes say things to myself that I would never tell anyone else.  Why?  I can look at others and give them the benefit of the doubt.  But I know myself, and thus I don't give myself that benefit.

    Maybe the key, however, is to look at the whole of my heart and realize, I am trying.  My hands offer up.  I wish to accept.  I want to love myself.  For to love is to respect, trust, and be comfortable with.  To feel at peace is a part of loving yourself.

     I offer myself my heart.  In my hands it has lain for years.  The faults and the strengths wishing to be equally understood and seen.  And I see them.  I see it, and I love it.  I love all of it.  I wish to help myself to become stronger.  But, I will lead kindly and I will learn to love more fully.  For peace in my own head and skin... that is the beginning of all I want.