this is a song about life

this is a song about love

but in the end, to be honest

it turns out it's all about trust

i have a house full of hopes

and i have a heart full of dreams

but i've learned you fill what is emptied

and you can dream better than me

the world is a friend and a foe

she tells me to follow my dreams

but you say to live is to let go

and my hope is in letting you lead

some days life is a heartbreak

some days it's hard to believe

11.

A wolf on its head

Is a river’s occupation

A hoop on end

Is a silly old bear

But turn me, Anna, around

And all you have is a dizzy girl.

12.

My sister is like a vulture

Hovering over my shoulder

And if I don’t take flight

It looks like she may bite

13.

If ever someone were to ask me

"What could you live without?"

I think that I would tell them,

"Just give me a wings,

A house in the trees,

Books on the shelves,

And I'm set for life."

footfall shadows left behind
imprinted
existence all crossing my mind
glittering  proof on this flawless white surface
it makes me see
it makes me feel
so many memories
they seem so real
all of these things
left behind
is that what they were meant for?

as I stand here alone
I slowly understand
that even after You’re gone
there’s things called dreams
there’s all those sweet memories
there’s more than just sorrow
there’s a new hope for tomorrow

It's raining again, and it makes me wonder
Just what it's saying, and why.
Is it a message of joy from heaven above?
Does it happen when angels cry?

Raindrops race gleefully down my window;
Or are they letting themselves fall?
I just can't decide what the rain is doing:
Rejoicing, or mourning us all?

*I don't know what made me think of this today, but here's what came of it...*

It was green, I remember,
fields stretching long,
and bushes hunched together
blackberries

It was stone, I remember,
statues, steps, path
grass growing through the cracks
and the pool full of our reflections
and tadpoles

It was damp, I remember
on a cloudy day under sweeping trees
reaching high with rustling leaves,
and the little house in the shadows with cobwebby sills
chasing, running

The afternoon was peaceful and serene; birds were quietly chirping in the trees, and the air felt warm.  There were ten of us cousins there that summer; James and Ezra had gone to a camp as counselors.  All of us, save the four youngest, were having the time of our lives spending hours hiking in the woods, playing war, or building our Fort Ticonderoga.  This fort was our pride and joy, for we had dragged and carried hundreds of logs to make it perfect.

When life is going well for me,

When victory is in sight,

Joyfully I praise my God

For I can see the Light.

Yet when my heart is sorrowing,

When worry drags me down,

Will I be able still to praise

My God who wears the crown?

Will I still trust His sovereignty

When torture is applied?

Will I stand firmly on the truth,

Or be convinced to lie?

In times of suffering, sickness, pain,

When time is right for death,

Will I cry out for more of life—