Saturday.
I am having one of those days where I feel like pouring out my soul to someone and since there is no one, I will let it flow into this pitiful post. Today I feel like I could love the world; their are so many emotions flowing through me today. They are not all good and not all bad; some are quite neutral. What shall I say? How shall I begin to decipher the inner workings of my mind, heart and soul?
This summer a lot of new things happened to me, things unexpected and unforeseen. Before I continue I must mention that there is a most excellent sunset occurring out my window and I must pause for but a moment to admire its natural beauty. As I was just gazing out I recalled my adventure in New Mexico which occurred a few years back. The memory of what it felt like to be alone on God's Earth and under His sky. To be out in the wilderness, where I always find peace; peace that I don't find anywhere else. How good it feels to be utterly alone, with the smell of soil and sand under your boots; the even cadence of your steps moving you higher and higher into God's country.
My soul found refuge among those hills, with rolling shadows, cast from clouds high above. To hear your heart sing, simply rejoicing in the all wonderful creation before you. How I long to be up in those mountains again, sleeping under the stars; a chill breeze cooling you after a long march. One moment you are preparing your meal, then you look heavenward and all else is forgotten. Upward wounds your soul to dance among the glittering spectacle before you. For a second you are free, free to soar unfettered by your feeble frame; in that instant you experience more than a life spent.
When inwardly their is turmoil or peace, their are moments when your soul escapes you and it must find a way to express itself. For me my writing, though it may seem jumbled and disorganized to an observer. It has a form and composition pleasing to my eyes and ears. When I read it I am comforted, when I see it I am relieved. All that is within, all that is pent up and un-vented goes into these works. Maybe that is the wrong term, these are not works, they are something much simpler. These are not composed for others viewing but for my own satisfaction. Others may read them, Linnea in fact may read them if she remembers to check it. She is the only one I have told the address to. Even if she does read these words, it will not matter I will continue to write as if no one is reading them. I like this site. I can write here and not be disturbed. It almost follows a journal format. Here ends all I have to say.
This summer a lot of new things happened to me, things unexpected and unforeseen. Before I continue I must mention that there is a most excellent sunset occurring out my window and I must pause for but a moment to admire its natural beauty. As I was just gazing out I recalled my adventure in New Mexico which occurred a few years back. The memory of what it felt like to be alone on God's Earth and under His sky. To be out in the wilderness, where I always find peace; peace that I don't find anywhere else. How good it feels to be utterly alone, with the smell of soil and sand under your boots; the even cadence of your steps moving you higher and higher into God's country.
My soul found refuge among those hills, with rolling shadows, cast from clouds high above. To hear your heart sing, simply rejoicing in the all wonderful creation before you. How I long to be up in those mountains again, sleeping under the stars; a chill breeze cooling you after a long march. One moment you are preparing your meal, then you look heavenward and all else is forgotten. Upward wounds your soul to dance among the glittering spectacle before you. For a second you are free, free to soar unfettered by your feeble frame; in that instant you experience more than a life spent.
When inwardly their is turmoil or peace, their are moments when your soul escapes you and it must find a way to express itself. For me my writing, though it may seem jumbled and disorganized to an observer. It has a form and composition pleasing to my eyes and ears. When I read it I am comforted, when I see it I am relieved. All that is within, all that is pent up and un-vented goes into these works. Maybe that is the wrong term, these are not works, they are something much simpler. These are not composed for others viewing but for my own satisfaction. Others may read them, Linnea in fact may read them if she remembers to check it. She is the only one I have told the address to. Even if she does read these words, it will not matter I will continue to write as if no one is reading them. I like this site. I can write here and not be disturbed. It almost follows a journal format. Here ends all I have to say.
posted by Ben @ 9:19 PM
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