:: vilanelle

i'm in a poetry class, which means i have to write, inspired or uninspired. it's good for me. discipline is good for me.

so i learned about this form, a villanelle. it has a really prescribed rhyming scheme, meaning that certain lines HAVE to end with certain words.

GONE FISHING

On a simple summer day
I took my worms and took my pail;
I traveled my familiar way
But blazed a brand-new barefoot trail
So no one knew I’d come that way.
I wanted to escape the fray
To see the progress of a snail
As I sat silent on this day.

The reeds bend down as if to pray;
Light leaves float down and start to sail
As wind and current point the way.
Suddenly my string pulls taut to say
My patient pastime did not fail
The way that it did yesterday –
With darkness and an empty pail I walk away.

:: isaiah 40:31 ::

all my life i've wondered why isaiah 40:31 says, "they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint." (or some versions say "be faint") isn't walking easier than running? why would fainting be a problem if someone is just walking? i guess i'd always considered life simply an option between the two: walking or running. because i had not endured yet. because i did not yet know that walking comes after running, when our strength is gone and we are grateful for just not fainting.

:: words ::

words have too much power. i almost don't want to write. we learn to use them when we're small, not realizing that we've just been given a sharpened weapon to wield. i cut someone with my words this week -- just a few small ones -- and remembered that it was a blade in my mouth. used responsibly, words are strength to empower a weary traveller. when they're misused, they can sever good friends, good trust, good intentions. it doesn't matter anymore if you did or did not mean to say it. once they're said, they're irrevocable.

shame on me for forgetting. may that never happen again, Lord.