{the final installment of the Victorious series!} 

The Creator smiled and began to mold and shape the ball he held in his hands. With one small breath of air, he sent the orb into the void. It became a small dot on the dark horizon, shining its light in glory to its Creator.

 {written September 2011. Jack is based – looks and mannerisms, anyway – off of a man we served food to at a church in the Seattle area. My aunt’s family took me with them when they went to help, with a program that offers food and shelter in churches to homeless men that are seeking to get back on their feet. It was a neat experience, though I’m not sure how much spiritual help these men were getting. My mind wandered to Les Miserables often, and the things the Bishop said – some of Sam’s words in this are based on that. So, without further ado, meet Jack.}          

(I had to re-post this as poetry, instead of fiction)

Here is a little more randomness--fruit of my writing assignments for class. For this one, I had to take line from a poem I'd already written and write a new poem with it, and then take a line from the new one and do it again...

(This was an assignment practicing the use of vowel sounds to create a distinctive tone or feel...)

“all the way to heaven is heaven.” – st. catherine of siena

Oh soul which cannot rest until
Every grace is well used,
Which cannot respite 'till it is filled,
With God's sanctifying grace.

In worldly things I see no pleasure,
For all turns to rot and dust,
But seek in God my only treasure,
And thus find my truest desires.

Branches in the puddle on the sidewalk
dark against the pale face of the sky
broken pictures of a broken world
windows to a place like mine
but not the same
I wonder – do they cry there?

The wind, it leaves the flowering branches crying
raining down their life over my face
little echoes of what I was made for
pieces of a near, dear place
but far away
I wonder – would I know it?

Oddly, I didn’t see myself as a suicidal nineteen-year-old girl standing in front of the bathroom mirror with a gun to her own head. I saw myself as a slave, standing before her god, with one last command to fulfill before being granted her freedom.
Even though I had never heard of anyone committing suicide standing in front of a mirror, I knew that I had to. I wanted it to see me.

Unrequited Love
Unrequited love,
Nailed upon a tree.
Broken hands,
Holding me.

Unrequited love,
A traitor to His law,
Deserving death for disobedience,
His forgiving what He saw.

Unrequited love,
Nailed upon a tree.
Fading lungs,
Giving breath to me.

Unrequited love,
Wrapped up in a sheet.
Arms drawing me,
To dance to a different beat.

Unrequited love,
Sealed into a grave.
Eyes boring into mine,
Daring me to be brave.

The wind is dancing about you
and rain pours through the day
washing it away
to another rainy day

The hope that comes with sunshine
seems lost amidst the clouds
while dampness soaks right through you
security drowning in flood

The rain is falling, pouring
blowing through the field
and everything that's withered
begins to rise and lift it's face
for tomorrow's brighter skies

The rain pours down, dropping
into hands held up, outstretched
reflections of the sky
leaves this heart to fly