The sun set hesitant beyond the western world
As if it knew the nameless axe was soon to fall.
Clouds gray and dark above the Alexandri’n shore
Reached down on sunset-gilded wings to touch the earth
And watch with baited breath the passing of the king.

He drew his dying breath and split the world in four.
From earthen grave, immortal Bucephalus wept.
The warrior king of kings went soon his fathers’ way,
But from his hearty, ruthless stock, so swiftly cut,
Sprang younger, greener shoots to rule the world.

This was written after our trip to Yemen this summer... not very good, but I liked the way it turned out.
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Scattered qaat leaves beneath my foot,
Veiled women dressed in black.
People jabbering in Arabic around me.
Welcome to Yemen.

Open-doored Dibabs driving by,
Little boys kicking a ball in the street.
Stray cats sitting under the chicken coop.
Welcome to Yemen.

October ninth, 1492, was beautiful when we left port, but now the sky feels as black as night. I have'nt seen land for at least two months. Columbus tries to cheer us up; it works maybe for and hour. I long to see home again and my wife and children. It seems we will never see land again. Some men have said they see things creeping among the seaweed. I try not to think about it, but I do. Sometimes I wish I had nver come.

The Tide comes upon
The shore sweeping
Away the rocks and shells

The sun rises
Over the hills

The tide goes away
Leaving new shells
To be gathered

Lifeless white, a waiting page
Speechless, I find myself
Lacking the wisdom to reach the heights
Lacking the love to touch the heart
Lacking the art to touch the soul
While all the right words run away

Formless, thoughts dance through my mind
Desperate prisoners, tightly shut
Lacking the breath to give them life
Lacking the key to break them free
Lacking the form to give them voice
While all the right words run away

A heart is cold
A beam is sold
For souls so beautiful
but hearts of stone

Now wounded He cries
for the heart that has died
and pain looks
from His penetrating eyes

He loves with a love
that’s despised and rejected
The priceless is sold;
the cost of our souls

Love is sold like a piece of cloth
For the merchant is broken
and the seller a thief
who steals unworthily

Are we dead to love
dead to see
our Savior who hangs
just because we
are waiting for a king

On my bookshelf, right in front of me as I type, there is my treasured bible from my childhood, worn, bookmarked and doggy-eared, but getting dusty. Next to it is an English interpretation of the Koran (the Koran can’t actually be translated, so instead I have: The Meaning of the Glorious Koran). This is not a very worn text – I’ve opened it a few times but I have never digested it. Next to the translated Koran is: A Simple Guide to Hinduism. This is only slightly more worn than the Koran.

Today I was at my cousin’s -PEE WEE- football game and they didn’t win. Well Austin- my cousin- hates to lose! While we were walking back to the car he was fighting back tears!!!! Excuse me? I’ll take this moment to address: IT’S A GAME!!!!!! What’s the big deal? My dad said that you shouldn’t like to lose but…..
I don’t like to lose things, but a football game? That’s taking it too far! I’m extremely confused!

We will walk in bitter rain.
But in dreams
I can hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again

In The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King at the very end of the movie, Frodo leaves the shire. Frodo leaves the shire, his friends and his home...forever. He says goodbye to his dearest friends. Friends who had changed his life in so many different ways.

He...well...he needs to move on, as do his friends. He will always treasure them and their friendship, but there comes a time when one must move on.

Have you experienced the glow of the sun above your head while in the waters?
Bubbles rising around you,
Making no sound very profound in a way that moves you,
glancing about to and fro,
What has all the waters seen?
The sinking of ships?
The floating of boats?
or the wars played out above them,
when silence creeps around them,
to let them know,
they were alone,
nobody sailing about them,
no cries of joy or in anguish,
what made the waters famous,