For a mandolin and a banjo...

Eddie Vedder and I are getting our acts together.
Well, he's singing about change and rising up, facing the world and shunning society's ways of doing things, and I - I am thinking that it sounds great AND like a lot of work.

Feel my pain

If you could,
Just maybe translate something for me.
See, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel,
And I don't know how I can react.
Because I don't feel.
Some might think I have tapped into,
A Midas' touch if there ever were one.
But I would just like to:
Cry when I am sad
Dance in joy
Reflect the pain I feel,
In some way, when I am forgotten, judged,
snubbed, ignored and all else.
I would just like to feel it for my self.
It is so detached from me.
Can someone feel it for me?

On things undeserved and hope

With all of the change
Still You have not forgotten
All things will be right

A lament, not a complaint.

Cashmere smooth
The words spoke softly
Leaving no room for hope
And no hope of change
Quietly disquieted
Surfacing discontent
I look at calm waters
And think all life is good within

Loud dissonance
Churning of the very foundations
Crying out for answers
To the questions that we stand against
Loud and demanding
Attention commanding
Watching an ocean of fury
And seeing nothing good at all

What two waters should I choose?
You know what I will
I long for easy answers
And I'm afraid to drown

[Blank]

This is for the times when trust seems like letting go of your foothold.
When repetition and frustrations become routine.
So we can look back, and we can see over broken roads;
And we can trust in a Strength stronger than determination.
A Fire brighter than the sun.
A Hope weaving in creation,
Beautiful stories yet untold.

Still, I sit here.
That same old damned feeling.
No Midas touch, and no gold, just withering.
And I am stretched out, a broken road
Waiting for The Strength stronger than my determination.
The Hope of all creation.
Please, whisper Your stories in my heart.

Iron Lung

I would like to stay down a little longer,
To hold my sides and wonder what might be.
Imagining what if my lungs were as fragile,
As delicate as I?

Because as I kiss the floor, I dream
That life could pass over like a parade
And I could awake and watch the end.
Safe on the sides.

But they're cold, and they're strong.
They take in deep, harsh air -
So real that it's choking me.
Oh, life choking out of me.

"Your Love is strong"

I like to imagine sometimes that I struggle alone. Even though they say that misery loves company, it would seem that it loves to feel unique. Maybe it loves to have others around to witness its existence, but it definitely likes to be alone it its issues. Because, if others knew what it was going through, surely they could not stand up without complaining; surely they would not be able to grapple with it better than us. Right?
And then, sometimes, I am mowed over by the realization that we're not alone. Perhaps no one goes through the same things at the same time, but I refuse to believe anymore that we are unique in our troubles.
I like to imagine that my questions are unique. That I struggle with a new issue no one has puzzled over before. That my answers will weigh heavily in the end, because they are the first of their kind. Some pioneers of a solitary field.
I guess I have a much bigger imagination than I give myself credit for.
I like to imagine myself so alienated, removed and distant from any rescue. To pretend that there are waters that Your Love cannot surmount, oh, God. To think that I can hide from it. Because, sometimes, Your love feels like breaking. Rending. Tearing, and not healing. And I'm silly, I know, that I would long to stay the same when so much surgery of the heart would heal me. So maybe, just keep working. And help me to be still.