I don't know if I have been the best father. But you have been the best turtle, the best sunrise, the best mermaid, the best pearl. Last night you told me you wanted to be an author, and I went in my room and cried. Partly because you are old enough to know what an author is. Partly because my dreams are becoming yours. But mostly because you had something to say, and you wanted to say it to me. I love you more than when you were a turtle. I love you more than when you were a sunrise. I love you more than when you were a mermaid. I love you more than when you were a pearl. I love you almost as much as I will tomorrow.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
My Turtle, who is about to turn 6:
I don't know if I have been the best father. But you have been the best turtle, the best sunrise, the best mermaid, the best pearl. Last night you told me you wanted to be an author, and I went in my room and cried. Partly because you are old enough to know what an author is. Partly because my dreams are becoming yours. But mostly because you had something to say, and you wanted to say it to me. I love you more than when you were a turtle. I love you more than when you were a sunrise. I love you more than when you were a mermaid. I love you more than when you were a pearl. I love you almost as much as I will tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Life
Add to a playlist More from this artist
(This post is meant to be read out loud along with the above soundtrack)
The straining violin of God's voice.
A tiny light made infinitely bright.
A heave and a sigh.
The manic banging of keys.
An astronaut cut from his lifecord.
A birth. A cry.
The iambic pulse of God's heart.
The stuttered steps of his boyfawn.
A gentle youthsong.
An opera of unknowable words.
A treefrown, a wounding, a lie.
The broken everything.
An opera of unknowable words.
A treefall, a tearing, a pieta.
The broken everything.
An opera of unknowable words.
(...)
(...)
The quiet.
The empty.
Startover.
....
....
....
After this tangled shoestring:
The Milkwhite Peaceriver
Of God's ether.
(This post is meant to be read out loud along with the above soundtrack)
The straining violin of God's voice.
A tiny light made infinitely bright.
A heave and a sigh.
The manic banging of keys.
An astronaut cut from his lifecord.
A birth. A cry.
The iambic pulse of God's heart.
The stuttered steps of his boyfawn.
A gentle youthsong.
An opera of unknowable words.
A treefrown, a wounding, a lie.
The broken everything.
An opera of unknowable words.
A treefall, a tearing, a pieta.
The broken everything.
An opera of unknowable words.
(...)
(...)
The quiet.
The empty.
Startover.
....
....
....
After this tangled shoestring:
The Milkwhite Peaceriver
Of God's ether.
Monday, March 01, 2010
What it is
This is it. A little while ago Sierra asked me how I feel love and I had a hard time describing it. But this morning Mr. Denver did the explaining for me.
Annie's Song
You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again.
Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again.
Annie's Song
You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again.
Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again.
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