I’ve been cursing a bird
Wishing I couldn’t be deterred
From flying above the herd
And avoid anything inferred
From the bustle that was blurred
Where there is no Shepherd
At least, He was never heard
My heart could not be stirred
Even if I was spurred
Or the worst occurred
I wouldn’t hear a word
Because life is just a turd
And everything is absurd
P.S. This is what happens when I decide to replace all curse words in my vocabulary with “turd.” I find myself writing poetry based on that one word.
So many interesting things to do and places to see!
It’s official! I’m going to study abroad next year! This is incredibly exciting! I had been planning on studying abroad in Japan, but I have since decided that I would much rather see a lot of different countries while I study abroad, so I have decided to take part in Semester at Sea.
Yay! I’ll be gone for a whole eight months, since I am going to go on both the Fall 2015 and the Spring 2016 voyages. For more information, check out my updated About Me page. With my plans becoming more solidified, I will have to start working on travel stories! Expect to see more variety here as my life continues to stabilize and I search for muses other than depressing things. If I wasn’t about to fall asleep, I would talk about my vacation to California with my dad back in October. What a wonderful trip. That state is beautiful.
But, for now, I’ll just leave you with this picture:
You have to love that California coastline.
Goodbye, friends! Have a wonderful night.
Cold as the approaching snow, a fragment of wind touches my exposed fingers and pushes against the back of my winter coat. As I turn, the frozen air flushes my cheeks and dries my lips: cracks and flaking pieces of skin reminding me of my need for Chap Stick. Dead leaves of fall still cling to the skeletal remains of trees surrounding my path. As grey clouds drift across the sky, the wind against my cheeks turns to white flakes, and ice crystals begin to hide fall’s dying remains.
“Pip, come. Sheppy, come here!” I beckon, kneeling while curling my fingers in with each syllable. A smile unfolds upon my cracking lips as the large Komondor, Shepherd, and tiny Bichon Frisé, Pip, trot towards me. Glancing up at the coming season yet again, I consider how this is our first walk of the day during my first week of this job during my first month in this state. While dog sitting coerces me out into the cold that I would normally avoid, I cannot help but enjoy this single moment with nature in the midst of the changes around me.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sniffing, black nose of Shepherd against my own and his brown eyes begging me to play. A thin layer of pure white snow melts within my hands while I vigorously scratch his back, and he happily pants and swishes his tail about. Once Pip’s short legs and floppy ears reach me, I stretch my arm beside Shepherd to pat Pip’s back, only for Shepherd to stand over Pip, vying for my attention.
“Okay, boys, let’s continue our walk.” Turning, my back is towards the wind once more, and we are absorbed into the atmosphere as white and grey grows around us. The first patch of ice appears along the southern edge of a nearby pond, brush along the bank impeding any dull warmth that desperately reaches from the sun. The water endlessly runs from the storm, and ripples are even visible beneath the first layer of ice. The running water and rushing clouds tell me that this storm’s demise is soon.
Leaving behind the shadow of the hibernating branches, we make our way into an open field. Snowflakes rush past us, frosted grass angles eastward, and dead leaves tumble away as the storm reaches its climax. Wind and time carry this first glimpse of winter eastward, and, while I continue walking into the open field, dogs rushing ahead of me as they leap towards the diminishing snowstorm, I begin to feel warmth upon my back. Turning my head, I notice a slither of blue sky drifting east, allowing the sun’s radiation to reach earth unhindered.
I smile and turn to see Shepherd looking back at me: this time, he is beckoning me. Putting another foot forward, I feel a familiar crunch beneath my left boot. I begin running as the sun pushes me into the new season of life awaiting me, and, as fall is buried, the first footprints of the season are placed upon the first snow.
Today, I logged on and looked at my wordpress stats and found that I have had more than ONE THOUSAND views on my blog! Awesome!
This is so exciting! There is hardly ever a day that goes by when I do not get visitors here, and I really appreciate it! Writing has become such a wonderful form of therapy and seeing consistent views helps me believe that I don’t absolutely suck at it. In fact, sometimes I think it goes quite well! Even when I move, have mono, and start a new job and relationship so my posts diminish for a while, I still have all these people coming here. Makes me feel special. 🙂
Thank you! I love you all! Thanks for bringing my blog to over a thousand views!
Our brain stems tell us to
With a tick tock rhythm
Only interrupted by shock
Or maybe the salt of tears
Dried on his cheeks
As he disappears six feet under
The green earth with shovels
Of dirt being poured over
His final resting place
His cerebellum stopped
Tick, step, miss, there was no tock
The cold winter air pierced
My lungs with icicles
As the air in my cupped hands
Turned to a fog that seeped
Through the cracks of my fingers
And stretched thin in the atmosphere
Surrounding the graveyard
White roses and daisies
At the foot of his marker
Made of stone and stained
With the shadow of a pine
Distracted my heavy eyes
Laden with smeared mascara
The white petals stole
The attention of my hope
But as I stood, with the heel
Of my boot within the fresh
Dirt of his grave, I read
Upon his stone the words we knew,
“Only one in six billion, he breathed
Every breath for the few he loved
And for the few who loved him.”