A Word To My Reader
I am not a perfect voice calling out in the dark, but a broken voice calling out in the dark. I have not said anything perfectly, nor have I ever touched on perfection flawlessly. Every element I speak on found here will fall short on every degree because of the breadth and width of which the topic expands (both logically and emotionally). In fact the only thing I can come closest to in explaining perfectly would be my brokenness, because that, I know better than perfection. I can only try to speak about the glimpses of perfection I have seen in my life. Please bear that in mind as you read. I hope that these compositions can bring further light to the honest depths and heights that life teaches us about ourselves, the world around us, and the starter of this all, God.
As Phillip Lopate says, in reading this you will learn more about my “habits of thought” than the activities that actually make up my day to day. I do not assume that most will want to read any of this, but for the one who is feeling lost or confused, for the one who is trying to find reason to keep living, for the one who is fighting against himself, others, or his God, and desiring to better understand why, I hope these pieces of writing might be a friend to you. I hope they push you to press on, to appreciate living (and working), to appreciate the smallest of moments with a family member, close friend, or stranger. I hope they move you to explore and imagine, to find the “why” behind anything, and to trust that though we have a finite understanding, the One who is infinite has been made accessible to mankind. Mankind meaning you and me, and there is no small amount of peace to be found in that truth.
P.S. I attached a song to the bottom of each composition to accompany its reading. Enjoy!
Sing Your Sweet Song, Dear Bird
(April 14th, 2022)
Sing your sweet song again, dear bird
I think you feel you’ve lost your voice
And the sound you make hurts you more than silence
But oh, how I miss that sweet noise
I realized it’s been years since I heard it
The melody would echo through our home
It used to make you so delighted to sing
Your eyes lit up as you thought on days of old
That sweet vibrato was our first teacher
Giving us those childhood songs we know
I wish you would stay ever confident
Knowing your old voice still holds the power of hope
Sing, sing again, my dear bird
Even if you think you’ve lost your voice
It will again make children out of us
Remembering our mother and her heart’s sweet noise
Coming of Age, A Subtle Thing
(August 30, 2020)
I was happy to hear you battling another great dragon again in the next room over. From the sound of it, it seemed to be quite a tough sword fight.
I saw you in the dark room swinging your sword at the shadows as I walked up the stairs, and by the looks of your actions, exhaustion, and the level of energy expended, they were no doubt quite glorious dragons and horrific foes.
You didn’t know it, but this was one of the last times you would play that way. I’m sure you hadn’t noticed, but over the last couple of years (as all kids do), you had fought these imaginary dragons less and less, and at this point, I hadn’t seen you battling any furious enemy since half a year ago. It is certainly happening less and less, and as we grow older, we notice less and less how little we imagine and how much time has gone by since the last time we joined the battle.
And so I sat and just listened, smiling with fondness, knowing that this fictional battle, though seeming childish, held a deeper richness that would no doubt help shape you into the courageous and heroic man you would one day become.