turned around

socioeconomic wonder 

at this hate filled fear

for we have only been hurt

by love

in our fragile state.

we have been pierced by

grace

bled from

mercy

turned over in our graves from 

forgiveness.

we are alive in fear but

we are whole at least

kept to ourselves.

safe.

but we are dead to all

that is life.

love.

customized birthday books and the growth of toddlers

tonight i was part of a miracle

and i didn't even know it.

i was baby sitting for three kids i have sat for since the girls were 6 weeks old.

yes, i know i talk about them all the time, give me a break.  if you knew them you would too.

anyway, i taught them something, and it was a complete miracle.

to be witness to this growth and yet the initiator, the one who requested something specific of them, and to see it contemplated and then performed impacted me in a way i can only describe as

intensely beautiful.

it was remarkable!  to watch these girls, who have been part of the world 2 short years, learn something before my very eyes, and showcase their personalities and individual ideas at the same time, well i could talk about it all night.  i mean,

kids

people

we

are genius.

get them dance classes!  ap everything!  organic 24/7!  freedom in all pursuits!

let them live!

i beg you this one thing; just let me be part of it.

day two

twirling with delight

at the wonder of movement.

the freedom escapes our fingers and ankles and heads thrown back in joy, utterly at peace with ourselves.

how can we all be such strangers together?

where is the harsh unfamiliarity of the everyday, the everyman?  gone. outside.  where there is no

dancing.

violence

i am sick of myself, sick of opening and closing the same chapters of my life.  done with the endless questions i love to ask.  over making my thoughts the truth.  through with the emptiness that is the vanity of me.

i want something more, something that is the farthest thing from all of the rote.  this suffering must mean something, anything, full of nothing.  the price i pay is far less, so much less, than the idea of death daily.  step it up, filkins!  take it.  you beg for it, plead for mercy and grace and love and courage and the best he has to offer and nothing less.  so what are you willing to give for it?  where is that stalwart dedication, that piercing gratitude and rushing musher?  where is the strength when it comes to the grime, the shattered fog?  it's so easy

easy

to be christmas at halloween, it's unexpected and not quite right.  

but it is beautiful.  to mush the pristine beauty of a hem in the caked dirtvomit of the street.  of letting go when you want to hold on.  of choosing change, not waiting for it to happen.  the beauty in that, the gorgeousness: of the highest integrity.  let it be said of me, and not just when i am dead.  i am willing to give it all.  to die today, tomorrow, forever.  take my pride father, take the pain i am focused on and show me yours.

love me so thoroughly that i am left without words.    so that i may live love with 

violence

valor 

and the vision of a warrior.