tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24138538600436523512024-02-20T06:37:47.798-08:00Mining With A Feathertonia.colleen@gmail.comTonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-26450674592133696452018-10-13T21:07:00.000-07:002018-10-13T21:22:17.152-07:00Songs of a Bruised Camellia<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWeU71RYwBitwm81f5bYjol8tlkNuAxSg8bQCZj7KevXGmZrFYcsaqtZbyjrNEEI2SteVkut-M3xGW4ZMACpE3Y0k7TGqNSYnYYYm8B9Vu-M49uZeKQ7VNg7M_Xrtwo7uu_ZQa4i1kco/s1600/Songs+of+a+bruised+Camellia.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWeU71RYwBitwm81f5bYjol8tlkNuAxSg8bQCZj7KevXGmZrFYcsaqtZbyjrNEEI2SteVkut-M3xGW4ZMACpE3Y0k7TGqNSYnYYYm8B9Vu-M49uZeKQ7VNg7M_Xrtwo7uu_ZQa4i1kco/s320/Songs+of+a+bruised+Camellia.jpg" width="295" height="320" data-original-width="1473" data-original-height="1600" /></a><br />
<br />
Whether I’d like to admit it or not, I’m not the flower everyone thinks I am.<br />
I am not the flower.<br />
I am not her.<br />
Not that one.<br />
I am another one.<br />
Whether I’d like to admit it or not, my fragrance is not the one most preferred.<br />
I’m not that fragrance.<br />
I’m not her.<br />
I am another one.<br />
<br />
Whether I’d like to admit it or not, my petals are not those pristine orbed pillows<br />
Prompted out of hiding by the dappled shade of spring. <br />
I am not a gardenia. I am a camellia. People often mix us up. Gardenia spreads her blooms from spring to summer, but I am different. My blooms appear among the first bloomers of Spring and then they quickly fall to the ground and bruise under everything and anything close and prevalent. Especially air. It’s true I live in a region where once a year an entire festival is held in my honor. It is a ghastly affair (if you are a flower) during which an enormous spectrum of all varieties of my kind are placed in exotic vases or mounted on creatively altered apparatus so as to reveal their most stunning profiles. The flowers are hideously ranked according to the tastes and expectations of fickle viewers.<br />
<br />
This shouldn’t surprise me as it happens to everything in the created order. Gardeners are not immune to falling into the same traps the whole of society forces upon them. What makes it particularly difficult is my inability to change myself into that other flower. Even if I could, I imagine the confusion would be repeated by those who were unable to identify me in my original state. I have succumbed to the pressure before. Deciding to proclaim myself a this or a that, rather than saving my efforts to be fully who I am based on the genealogy given to me by my Maker. It was a disaster. <br />
<br />
I am the flower God designed me to be.<br />
I am His Flower.<br />
I am His Her.<br />
I am His one.<br />
I am the fragrance God breathed into me. <br />
My breath is from God.<br />
I am His.<br />
<br />
I bruise easily. I am short-lived. The very air around me presses in and leaves a mark. I was not designed for competitions but rather to be loved and to bring beauty into the world. Not for beauty’s sake alone, but for the sake of turning people on their heels, for bringing them up short and making them stop and ask how is it that such a dainty thing could come randomly into existence? Given my short blooming season, I understand how my value could be overlooked, but even when my blooms are dormant, my glossy leaves make magnificent nets for the sunshine and extraordinary mirrors for God the Master Gardener. Nothing was spared in my creation to reveal a tiny, teeny facet of the abundance of God’s astonishing resources that were lovingly expended for me. <br />
<br />
Whether I’d like to admit it or not, I’m not the flower everyone thinks I am.<br />
I am not the flower.<br />
I am not her.<br />
Not that one.<br />
I am another one.<br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-66638056266569028912017-05-06T12:13:00.001-07:002017-05-06T12:13:07.432-07:00Choose Trust<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7SptS1CEeoHR8jQeb4p99u48i8837xOAnd-hUQ3Se8jydc6X13rnbApXrt7wWvNtywaeI9MS-jQXLjE-V8rouRnona-JFWo2b_gddzMx5zv90RZYtMP4911zKxgg5OBh7ztMDLN_xaM/s1600/Choose+Trust+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7SptS1CEeoHR8jQeb4p99u48i8837xOAnd-hUQ3Se8jydc6X13rnbApXrt7wWvNtywaeI9MS-jQXLjE-V8rouRnona-JFWo2b_gddzMx5zv90RZYtMP4911zKxgg5OBh7ztMDLN_xaM/s320/Choose+Trust+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" height="232" /></a>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-49599962710917850492017-02-13T12:35:00.003-08:002017-02-13T12:35:29.849-08:00Grandmother Thanks Little<br />
Long before the Grimm’s brothers shut down their law firm,<br />
and owned up to their art,<br />
I shuddered swiftly from shadow to shadow,<br />
the big bad pursuing.<br />
To where? For what?<br />
All I knew was to hide or keep going.<br />
<br />
Yours was a story slipped from God through me, <br />
through my mother, <br />
through her mother<br />
through the mother before, <br />
erupting first through Eve.<br />
<br />
Just like Eve, I hid behind the moon white gardenias,<br />
longing with bruised desire, <br />
waiting for its scent to keep its promise <br />
and return us to the garden. <br />
<br />
Distracted by my longing, I forgot everyone else, especially you,<br />
the sweet and innocent Woodcutter’s Daughter. <br />
selectively listening, strung out by half-baked understanding<br />
throwing the Woodcutter’s wealth to the false fires <br />
of what kept me cold and hungry. <br />
<br />
But then the Grimm’s caught wind of our story, arrived<br />
just after big bad hid his fangs in a rumor,<br />
stuffed his claws in a lie and delivered his most persuasive speech.<br />
Seeing me worry-weak, settling for lesser than less, <br />
they sent you from The Woodcutter’s hearth <br />
and into my world with your luscious basket <br />
and the red hooded cape I forced you to wear. <br />
<br />
But for your timely pleas, your child-like cries for help,<br />
your unfaltering dependence on The Woodcutter, I<br />
would have been dead consumed, our story lost in <br />
legal practicalities. <br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-63394369669537606422017-01-12T16:11:00.001-08:002017-01-12T16:11:35.357-08:00The Flower Girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41Uzb92lEvhTSniSbxC4lHEA-13fQtB79nWpCMWJq6f0Ctf8EfcOpeU-PfKqNSUWf8ombWGpibKH2jwY0okPXUtvrF_OyT3y9ehUB-ldaKGRPU9YuXY4E3omRGioV9TfttYlw0Cknnjo/s1600/IMG_1343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41Uzb92lEvhTSniSbxC4lHEA-13fQtB79nWpCMWJq6f0Ctf8EfcOpeU-PfKqNSUWf8ombWGpibKH2jwY0okPXUtvrF_OyT3y9ehUB-ldaKGRPU9YuXY4E3omRGioV9TfttYlw0Cknnjo/s320/IMG_1343.JPG" width="320" height="320" /></a></div><br />
The Flower Girl<br />
<br />
She got tired for awhile; no, that's not quite it. She started out tired. <br />
It took her decades to get rested up. Her weariness came over her the<br />
minute she woke up, everyday like fog off the ocean. One day she<br />
named her fatigue and gave it back to the night. Without fatigue fear<br />
flooded the yawning space. Once she put a name to it, she sent it to<br />
school as it lacked manners and clarity, worse civility. It was all arms<br />
swinging, legs kicking and mouth smacking. She taught it <br />
to keep its mouth shut and its delusional appendages to itself.<br />
<br />
With so much freedom from this ill-mannered bully, she got side-tracked<br />
with grandiosity. Now I can conquer the world, she thought. But even <br />
before she could translate the thought to words, Wisdom arched its<br />
brow. "The world has already been conquered," it said. "You might want<br />
to pick a bouquet of flowers and deliver them to a friend." Which is <br />
exactly what she did. But first she took a long, cleansing look at them<br />
herself. It is no small thing to be schooled by flowers. <br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-90740820617119717242017-01-04T13:30:00.000-08:002017-01-04T13:30:01.035-08:00The Yellow Suitcase excerpt (pg. 3)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjqFzjsaO1FCYo1uNjlxAcYTpMkk7TW4mjNNLG-JB7H9vYyqqsYt2RyTZKZTihp5DQ21A7A-YGGVct6fD9MxNNZXjMxaaOkitI_rbGIw190T5fsGfhU9vFUzTT-_7Qtw81MbHnZ4ATpc/s1600/Vacation_Sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjqFzjsaO1FCYo1uNjlxAcYTpMkk7TW4mjNNLG-JB7H9vYyqqsYt2RyTZKZTihp5DQ21A7A-YGGVct6fD9MxNNZXjMxaaOkitI_rbGIw190T5fsGfhU9vFUzTT-_7Qtw81MbHnZ4ATpc/s320/Vacation_Sm.jpg" width="319" height="320" /></a></div><br />
Yellow. <br />
The suitcase is as close to yellow as any other color. <br />
For a surprise, <br />
the sisters wrap it with ribbons. <br />
<br />
The brothers scratch blessings <br />
in its yellow side. <br />
<br />
The lovers latch arms. <br />
This is why they think <br />
they are strong, why they believe they have power. <br />
There is strength <br />
in their arms. <br />
They embrace everything. Lift much. <br />
Carry more. <br />
The way is surprisingly rough. <br />
<br />
She doesn’t mention the presence of hills<br />
Ignores the ruts, sees only small declivities, <br />
no ditches, no peaks, certainly no cliffs. <br />
<br />
The road narrows, erupts with trees. <br />
An unexpected wind sweeps down.<br />
<br />
Avoiding the wind, she runs. <br />
Years of running begin. <br />
To slow her down, wild animals appear. <br />
Wild animals distract her.<br />
She dare not stay, dare not linger. <br />
Wild animals can never be tamed. <br />
<br />
<br />
Birds. Far off, now closer. <br />
Finally, alarmingly near, in her face, <br />
her hair, frisking her shoulders. <br />
Infantry of feathers. <br />
Battalion of beaks. <br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-48158055240047965052016-11-30T21:15:00.000-08:002016-11-30T21:15:17.295-08:00The Yellow Suitcase (excerpt pg. 2)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxBSjgwAb9He_QwI7XFUwatJpd5iObjONJe3kaN-5QkJGuEIqpyfIXS9UpRMCRJ8S0WPSU8F70a-EYa8jnRcZG9_B94wTVURLNA6mC0bGCi-u0a0aVL_sQtWVNpWA19pWGgHIXCCZ-9M/s1600/Honeymoon_Sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxBSjgwAb9He_QwI7XFUwatJpd5iObjONJe3kaN-5QkJGuEIqpyfIXS9UpRMCRJ8S0WPSU8F70a-EYa8jnRcZG9_B94wTVURLNA6mC0bGCi-u0a0aVL_sQtWVNpWA19pWGgHIXCCZ-9M/s320/Honeymoon_Sm.jpg" width="317" height="320" /></a></div><br />
She knows nothing. <br />
Less than nothing. <br />
This is what she knows. <br />
She has agreed to what <br />
she does not know, to what <br />
she believes will be easy. <br />
<br />
Something black. <br />
Something white. <br />
<br />
Knowing she knows nothing <br />
happens later. This is now. <br />
Now she does not cry. <br />
She leaves her weeping behind. <br />
Behind is where<br />
her weeping remains. <br />
<br />
A ring is slipped on her finger. <br />
A circle of gold. <br />
And then on his, his hand is <br />
also captured with gold. <br />
Pictures are taken. <br />
Pictures help with <br />
remembering. <br />
Nothing is needed <br />
to help them forget. <br />
Forgetting is easier <br />
than remembering. <br />
<br />
Between them is a suitcase. <br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-83311827614993656382016-11-22T19:50:00.001-08:002016-11-22T19:50:36.386-08:00The Yellow Suitcase - A Fairy Tale For Adults<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWpW3tExU0GVSjfTe2bCVYXeNaU8EL7rZaNHtTkjLz9LiGgbRhnRzve2xrQkA-jB2VGEnRgiJ5nTQrNQeG8JI_SfO_uIk3MRga1tWFLPdWPGW9mEiwACa5iXLs1yeE3m08ULQiedFC5E/s1600/Newlyweds_Lrg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWpW3tExU0GVSjfTe2bCVYXeNaU8EL7rZaNHtTkjLz9LiGgbRhnRzve2xrQkA-jB2VGEnRgiJ5nTQrNQeG8JI_SfO_uIk3MRga1tWFLPdWPGW9mEiwACa5iXLs1yeE3m08ULQiedFC5E/s320/Newlyweds_Lrg.jpg" width="320" height="320" /></a></div><br />
It is a simple occasion. <br />
What can I say?<br />
The wedding is <br />
not elaborate.<br />
They wear black and white.<br />
<br />
No, this is wrong. <br />
White and black. <br />
<br />
The bride comes first. <br />
Always the bride first.<br />
Everyone agrees.<br />
Everyone - <br />
Florist. Caterers. Musicians. <br />
Even the printers. <br />
<br />
The guests bring gifts. <br />
Tied with ribbons, <br />
swaddled in tissue, <br />
dressed in foil paper, <br />
kissed with glitter cards.<br />
<br />
She carries a glass bouquet. <br />
Imagine. Breakable blooms. <br />
Blooms carried like <br />
sky hooks to love. <br />
<br />
It is a happy occasion. <br />
But there are tears. <br />
Wept and unwept. <br />
The tears are here.<br />
<br />
-1-<br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-70237393937812009592015-08-05T01:24:00.001-07:002015-08-05T01:24:26.452-07:00The Clock Ticks, The Peacock Warns, The Butterfly Soars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8uvK6WSAmZLGyoKgeortsh2vbWTV5ZvaRQtFSkpIUujpfNcnLxCwv5yB69DNAbVCxiINHwQ0Uhp6YGI574NqzLCpfnD8Z_8eZ5T0iBfKpnaNM5C9CVHHw_-gb6BDYVQ5Yo8dxQ7p24c/s1600/clock+ticks%252C+peacock+warns%252C+the+butterfly+soars.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8uvK6WSAmZLGyoKgeortsh2vbWTV5ZvaRQtFSkpIUujpfNcnLxCwv5yB69DNAbVCxiINHwQ0Uhp6YGI574NqzLCpfnD8Z_8eZ5T0iBfKpnaNM5C9CVHHw_-gb6BDYVQ5Yo8dxQ7p24c/s400/clock+ticks%252C+peacock+warns%252C+the+butterfly+soars.JPG" /></a></div>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-68430728662848348222015-07-25T11:53:00.001-07:002015-07-25T11:54:26.597-07:00In every man’s heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty – Christopher MorleyTonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-29254891085462710232015-07-23T11:59:00.000-07:002015-07-23T11:59:17.629-07:00Stop ThiefShe wasn’t always so fluid.<br />
She thinks.<br />
This is a thought,<br />
Not a sentence.<br />
By desperate she means in danger of leaking out of herself.<br />
People do all the time, she thinks, remembering all the puddles.<br />
This goes beyond incontinence, she thinks.<br />
This is a thought,<br />
Not a sentence.<br />
The sentence would go like this: I hate dreaming I am somewhere and waking up somewhere else.<br />
(If it was a sentence, and if the dreaming place rippled and the waking place caged.))<br />
<br />
Write it out. Write it out.<br />
This is an encouragement.<br />
Writing seems monumental until she considered the weight of a thought.<br />
She often had such enormous thoughts they fell on her chest like stones<br />
Writing seems dull until she understood the sharp edge of an undisclosed thought.<br />
Once she cut off her own leg with one.<br />
For years she limped looking rather than writing.<br />
Of course as it is with all lost things, they tend to turn up in the places no one looks.<br />
This is reality.<br />
Who wants to go there? She asks. This valid question holds the key to the cage. <br />
No one answers.<br />
Why? She asks, folding the key into a cork screw.<br />
No one hears it.<br />
Write it out. Write it out.<br />
Bring others into your undiscovered world.<br />
They have it too. It is not up to them. It is up to you. <br />
Delete.<br />
Correction:<br />
Up to me.<br />
<br />
It’s enormous.<br />
It’s dark.<br />
It circles around her.<br />
It takes time, she thinks, picturing a clock propelled by a million swiped legs.<br />
Oh there, she shouts with a ball point pen.<br />
I recognize that one. It’s mine, she writes, feeling the loss of her limp.<br />
<br />
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-90639150928853686502015-07-17T11:53:00.000-07:002015-07-17T11:53:01.919-07:00Falling from Grace to Grace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8S_NdJPwuKTvYHH_kcX2dwkK3euHY_98L4tFJZTCflcePz0Rs202jCtRakS59pZVLGb-rzTG6OCwAnknqqFoIj4FAqQ2EM2ypJAgmYoPQBTGdAA0w-cujriNWb3XXmrkJeVPcJH3uO6M/s1600/Falling+from+Grace++to+grace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8S_NdJPwuKTvYHH_kcX2dwkK3euHY_98L4tFJZTCflcePz0Rs202jCtRakS59pZVLGb-rzTG6OCwAnknqqFoIj4FAqQ2EM2ypJAgmYoPQBTGdAA0w-cujriNWb3XXmrkJeVPcJH3uO6M/s320/Falling+from+Grace++to+grace.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-26732758951607913462015-07-03T15:58:00.003-07:002015-07-03T15:58:45.137-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dhj0tV_TMl7QxMAWxa1RtZNXLoQA8Oj6Lphaqwk4zAlxqH-hQ8-t_dWOL6xybJObhkEN2tU_Ey94tblOAE3AhtiS3Trrt1K4SAEfYOvpqUZbGNXBTr4TM1FbbgzALsEMvYbQnU08qP4/s1600/white+flag+surrender.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dhj0tV_TMl7QxMAWxa1RtZNXLoQA8Oj6Lphaqwk4zAlxqH-hQ8-t_dWOL6xybJObhkEN2tU_Ey94tblOAE3AhtiS3Trrt1K4SAEfYOvpqUZbGNXBTr4TM1FbbgzALsEMvYbQnU08qP4/s320/white+flag+surrender.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-35396861612728057842015-07-03T13:18:00.000-07:002015-07-03T15:57:35.898-07:00A Call To Freedom<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">She sleeps on a bed of heritage roses,</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Awakens to a whispered
invitation -<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Come unto
me<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Her ears cup the words
as she tries out her mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">A rusty bugle nests her
sleeping-bird tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the space of her
silence she hears other voices,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">each one a withering accusation
-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">You knew…</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">You did…</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">You are…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">She raises the bugle to
her lips, the bird flutters its wings –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">But</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">But</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">But</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I knew not…</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I didn’t…</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I am not…</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Fear rustles her story
into silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">On a gust of the blue
wind’s holy blowing, the invitation returns unwearied - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come Unto Me<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The bird is weary, the
bird is weak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">She places the bugle in
a glass curio,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">secrets herself in a pleasing
summer hat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shovel in hand, she loses
herself in the heritage roses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">No thank you, I’m fine.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">No worries.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">No trouble at all.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t think a thing of
it.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">It’s nothing.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Really.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Nothing at all.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come Unto Me<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Against the scandalous
invitation she cottons her ears with feathers,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">waters the hat with
burgundy wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sleeping, working, planning,
sleeping, working, planning,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">shoveling through the
years, hoping to earn her voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come unto
Me –<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">What perseverance, what
faithfulness in this long-suffering invitation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The blue enhances, the
holy blowing pursues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">But still, as fears
silences a song<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">she hides in hesitation,
cows to worming rumors - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">confusing her past,
obscuring her futures. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come unto
Me</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Struggling to go up, she
falls down, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">down to the floor of
herself,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">right through the door
of herself,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">backwards, sideways then
onto her childhood knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Unabridged, uncondensed,
she lands on the edge of <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">what-could-have-been and
what-can-still-be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come Unto Me –<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Retrieving
the bugle, releasing the bird, she makes her reply. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I hurt blood.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’m weak wax.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I white flag
surrender. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Come Unto Me</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Easter
morning she awakes to the scent of lily-clad words,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">She
rests in her beautiful ruined story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
current of myth takes stock of the truth<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">And
judgement heels its curse at the cross. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
I am</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
I am</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
I am<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Your
Rest.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-79658241367085240002015-05-30T22:36:00.000-07:002015-05-30T22:36:44.203-07:00Refusing DespairRefusing Despair, we surrendered to Hope.
We remembered our ruined stories and marked the disasters along the way.
Returning to scenes of misconceptions, we nearly drowned for fear of their depths.
But Faith carried us forward.
We opened our eyes.
We unstopped our ears.
Truth showed us grief we ignored, crimes we witnessed.
We came to believe life had always been unmanageable alone
but now we embraced the friendship of clarity.
Using the mirror of our memories,
we found relics of our desires and unearthed them with our prayers.
In the spring of our returning
we found the children we suffered to be.
Discovering them isolated, cold and hungry,
we embraced them,
soothed them with listening,
cradled them with understanding.
We told them what we ourselves had forgotten and they had never heard –
“Don’t be afraid.
Fear robs.
Hope protects.”
We became new children that day,
chattering like birds,
receiving our bread every morning,
drinking God’s peace with the moon.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdeIGwb_50pMtvx8zxFgBfzYyfOeIVSF7fl4aXsCDeLb6GYBJCsvvheLlBcBe6C-KpVbuBD89NYCa3VLBrMcnITJVvEDtA7rN0vEHI5Gfphyphenhyphen8noXoupMASVYNeQ6hDCMmNUL9rYXrKrs/s1600/Refusing+Despair+-+May+30%252C+2015%252C+11-31+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdeIGwb_50pMtvx8zxFgBfzYyfOeIVSF7fl4aXsCDeLb6GYBJCsvvheLlBcBe6C-KpVbuBD89NYCa3VLBrMcnITJVvEDtA7rN0vEHI5Gfphyphenhyphen8noXoupMASVYNeQ6hDCMmNUL9rYXrKrs/s400/Refusing+Despair+-+May+30%252C+2015%252C+11-31+AM.jpg" /></a></div>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-71520694345646670332015-05-30T14:40:00.001-07:002015-05-30T14:40:20.221-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
Get Carried Away (or Statement of Rights)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">We
have the right to get carried away by love, to celebrate the whole of creation,
to smile, to pray, to bear witness as to what it means to be created in the
image of God. We have the right to praise The Creator, to keep our eyes open,
to examine our intentions, to cherish mercy, to stand against evil, to sit in
solitude, to sing in community, to be amazed at children, to respect the
elderly, to walk around flowers, to expose cruelty, to cling to faith, to practice
gratitude, to say we’re sorry. We have the right to speak the truth, admit confusion,
strive for simplicity, accept God’s liberation from chaos. We have the right to
refuse the shame of our need, admit pain, to ask questions, celebrate joy and
the freedom to live with an eye toward the dignity bestowed unearned upon us by
God Almighty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWnxuzbWf3pwHVW2fEkWjEYClqG3IavPOdN88Ctu6dpD0C4ITSlXWOVAxTAYw1ITssJmiFChvrdXVU4cebqbW3mmSBhoo2J_IucBxHtEfO2DoEYtDbuxqjgoeCAuw1WHbIjygnkYV8G-E/s1600/Getting+Carried+Away+-+May+30%252C+2015%252C+2-21+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWnxuzbWf3pwHVW2fEkWjEYClqG3IavPOdN88Ctu6dpD0C4ITSlXWOVAxTAYw1ITssJmiFChvrdXVU4cebqbW3mmSBhoo2J_IucBxHtEfO2DoEYtDbuxqjgoeCAuw1WHbIjygnkYV8G-E/s320/Getting+Carried+Away+-+May+30%252C+2015%252C+2-21+PM.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-77029315349192287682014-08-06T21:20:00.001-07:002014-08-06T21:20:44.625-07:00This is a short short video about my novel: The Frankincense Tree<a href="https://www.wevideo.com/hub/#media/ci/212092060" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" target="_blank">https://www.wevideo.com/hub/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>#media/ci/212092060</a>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-10010205184929746892013-12-11T13:24:00.000-08:002013-12-11T13:27:04.793-08:00<br />
<div class="WordSection1">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 2in;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Your Trip to Paradise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">I<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">At
3:00 a.m. on a black kettle night,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">a
yen for Paradise snaps you awake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Rising,
you pack ridiculous flimsy clothes - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">shirts
without sleeves, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">pants
without legs, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">shoes
without a hint of protection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
commit this crime in faith,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Commit
it in passion and a kind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">of
boulder-hoisting desperation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
carefully make your bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
case you don’t return, in case <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Indiscriminate
survivors blunder through<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">your
private domain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Bent
on Paradise, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">you
want to leave Perdition <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">in
an ordered state worthy of a <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">benevolent
obituary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Stepping
through the door, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">the
night hits your face and <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">you
take note: this is not a dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The
sun, held back by fermented rain,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and
the liquor of nocturnal recline,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">shows
no sign of appearing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
board the metal bird in the guise <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">of
a Boeing 747 and <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">close
your eyes as it lifts from the sliver of earth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Through
the square of layer glass, you see the beautiful creature, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">the
who of you, the yes of you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">the
now and then and hope of you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: auto;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="WordSection2">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">the
transformed you after you accept <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">yourself
as the soul you were <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">you
were fashioned to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">This
astonishing you runs at break-neck speed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">But
you are not out of breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Colored
in twilight, your legs drum the delighted sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
run outside the strapped-in shell of you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">patiently
waiting to make your acquaintance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Studying
you, you gape amazed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
are ageless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Empowered
by engines not your own,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Endearing
and enduring through weakness,.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">through
storms meant to grow you wings,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">through
sunflower gardens turned toward the moon,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">rivers
of ice flowing uphill to sky,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">through
yearning and angst all forgotten. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">There
you go, swift through trees hung fat with I-can-do-anything-leaves,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">diving
backwards, neck arching, legs stretching,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">your
toes pointed to God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
are dizzy with balance,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">giddy
with peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Leaving
a trail of shrinking lights, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">you
think primordial thoughts - thoughts of fire, of flood, of disarmed fate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
are a river undamned by God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The
current is swift, but it is not against you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Rejoicing
and weeping, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">a
flock of crystal stars fly beneath you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">With
wings of diamonds and bone <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and
feathers of colored surprise, they churn the wind for the transfiguring mill of
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: auto;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">For
this excursion children alone are permitted to sit in exit rows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
case of a crash, only the children can open the doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">It
has always been this way, but only is it safe to be one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">As
a child, you behold yourself in a lime green shirt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Or
is it red? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blue maybe? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
decide on a dotted Swiss dress with a yellow belt.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
remember bare hands, fingers dipping into a sugar bowl <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and
giving your tongue a treat. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Yes,
the hands are small and the child is you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
look down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
want to know this two-legged shape attached to you and you to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">But
it is not a completed you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Your
body is merely a sentence that carries the noun of you, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
are a fabulous stuttering phrase carried by the ill-stated truth of you.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">But
it is never, not ever complete enough.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">And
now you remember your former bed, the warmth of it and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">how
it felt to be in the arms of it, how it protested with your every turn <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and
how the covers were never exactly the weight you wanted them to be.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">You
remember God’s smothered voice, the feel of your hands against your ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
the knowledge of the smallness of your hands you agree to stop apologizing,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">to
stop making excuses.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Yours is a story that keeps being written.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
And not <span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">a story meant to be written alone.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
the story you wrote alone you stayed stuck behind a curious door,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">afraid
to try the handle, afraid to risk its turning.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">But
the nudge to do so insisted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">All
along you’ve questioned the nudge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">God
himself explains the nudge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">God
himself explains your hesitation.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Your
fear of the nudge has to do with God. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Only
God makes sense of fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
Perdition there is much to overcome, to improve, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">to
remodel, destroy, amend, excuse, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">flatter,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>impress, refute.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Paradise
turns fixing obsolete. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In
Paradise the water brims with tears nobody needs to cry.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">And
the birds?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The
birds derive from angels. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The
clocks are clowns and time is hour free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The cutting wind has dropped its blade and <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">grown a cotton tongue, and </span><span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">all the words are waterfalls and <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">all the dots have i’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">The shredding cloaks of poverty transform to
gleaming gowns and broken doors<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">are used as boats </span><span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and oars are pulled by skies. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In Paradise your questions beg </span><span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and answers grow like alms.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">And yes and no are Simese twins and </span><span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">Mondays carry songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">In Paradise you are who you were born to be </span><span style="font-family: Ebrima; mso-bidi-font-family: Ebrima;">and no one thinks to drown.</span><o:p></o:p>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-64438856612984315562013-11-30T11:03:00.000-08:002013-11-30T11:03:26.811-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q10NVx_HXdvAHKZ7qk6r-LA7iuqdlgEW_46i9h1bV7xpb7ve2WdBerzTCrJfwBwK6J4aCebBBgOBpWwsuFnrAtfBzAzdpqv2Z-V0YzFoGSiBSKt-ofORCjQXMslQH-5SuYXFfOyjDJc/s1600/falling+from+grace+to+grace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q10NVx_HXdvAHKZ7qk6r-LA7iuqdlgEW_46i9h1bV7xpb7ve2WdBerzTCrJfwBwK6J4aCebBBgOBpWwsuFnrAtfBzAzdpqv2Z-V0YzFoGSiBSKt-ofORCjQXMslQH-5SuYXFfOyjDJc/s320/falling+from+grace+to+grace.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-28314154993127325742013-11-30T10:51:00.000-08:002013-11-30T10:51:37.486-08:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She believed
her many-headed self was proof of a scattered brain. But a scattered brain was
better than a frozen brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most would
agree. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> B</span>eing scattered
trumped being frozen; it was her comfort. But she often wondered how to repair herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a season she hunted for
glue, for a kind of epoxy that would mend the scatters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a while she used only some of the
fragments. That season perplexed her. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She didn’t
like the cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She was </span>frightened by glaciers: Enormous blue-white citadels moving towards the sea,
skyscrapers of ice bent on barely discernible progress until they reach the
continent’s edge and tip inelegantly into the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is what this is all about: moving from
frozen to liquid and then letting go. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Letting go was not her first choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her first choice was clinging.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Letting go was slow in developing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is still not done. It comes in stops and starts with sometimes dark moons and missing stars. And sometimes the sun shines so bright she
wears a blister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank Jesus for the Sabbath, for celebrations that include candles. Fire. Fire. Fire. She
struggles with limbs and appendages. She sets her sights on what she thinks she needs and lets go all over again. She's often dizzy but not so much as she was before. She is coming to love movement and understanding her need to change. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hope you
never change, they said. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But Life said, I hope you do. I hope you keep changing. I hope you never stay
the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You aren’t the
girl we knew, they said. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
She <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">doesn't argue but in her heart she knows she wasn't who they thought
she was. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is a season of stepping into The Push. A season of tumbling. Grace has her flying head over heels. She accepts the spinning. Moving keeps her warm. She's made friends with Grace and admitted she can't change. Only Grace can change her and He
did and He is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reminds herself often: Change is good. I am not afraid of change. Stuck is what to fear. Stuck
prevents change. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-414605068504502782013-11-29T22:12:00.000-08:002013-11-29T22:12:27.482-08:00When a Fireball Lands in the Middle of Your Dreams<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3]"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].[0].[0]">This is what happens when the fireball in the sky lands in your dream and you have to listen to its flames and have to make sense of the blazing language that climbs up on your tongue and starts it wagging. A light gets turned on. All those dark night</span></span><span data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].[3]"><span data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].[3].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[82ra].[1][3][1]{comment191423167710429_220478}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].[3].[0].[0]">s turn into summer and you begin to see why the shadows confused you. The fireball doesn’t have to be enormous, it just have to be hot. Given the nature of fire you know that it is. You know it can burn you but it won’t. The fire will only burn the things that aren’t needed. Things like shame or fear or regret. Things like "I wish I had not..., I should have... I missed out on...." Once the fireball lands you’ll be like those crazy people in Acts who knew about love. You’ll stop being cold, you’ll think about winter and how it won’t ever freeze you. You’ll realize how ridiculous it is to bundle up your desire. You’ll begin to yearn and stop caring about what is missing and why you can’t have it. You’ll start telling the truth and feel the fire warm you on the inside where snow used to camp. You’ll act a little crazy when the fireball lands but it will be the kind of crazy that makes sanity jealous. People will circle around just to stay warm and you won’t run out of blankets. I think the fireball was never meant to hide in the sky. I think it was meant to hide in you and me. It was meant to cause an uproar. To wake us up. To keep us hopping. To make us lie still. To undo us, to put us back together. All of this. All of that. The whole thing is ours. Its fire and its God and it is crazy and its good and now we can fan the flames and let it burn. Good morning.</span></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5Xw9XnjVeBTPTbvpdCwpQgRdctNoLRBVj65iKon2vSRMIkwwmdJBGbOOyerrgCuwDzR-6rBe1ZDMYtWDt3Zf_YAhjEA7Q2zcM6f4ovd-ldlrPUmBkyk9YbLJxrx4S9GusDHuGa31zgI/s1600/Fireball.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5Xw9XnjVeBTPTbvpdCwpQgRdctNoLRBVj65iKon2vSRMIkwwmdJBGbOOyerrgCuwDzR-6rBe1ZDMYtWDt3Zf_YAhjEA7Q2zcM6f4ovd-ldlrPUmBkyk9YbLJxrx4S9GusDHuGa31zgI/s320/Fireball.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-58814025389927818012013-10-02T22:22:00.001-07:002013-10-02T22:22:45.732-07:00What Jonathan Edwards said is still true.“The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied. To go to heaven, fully to enjoy God, is infinitely better than the most pleasant accommodations here. Fathers and mothers, husbands, wives, or children, or the company of earthly friends, are but shadows; but God is the substance. These are but scattered beams, but God is the sun. These are but streams. But God is the ocean.Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-87358641724213365972013-09-02T14:59:00.001-07:002013-09-02T14:59:44.349-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaxp6u7gTTmS6AZZoBphUAP46R-MHFeqi9i2yVXHZVjn6UuwJHbO_lN8WPWUdzhdDFJQclID1yIZ6fyP8nr_UlGOYkR0U9XchgXOT_eAJHh4K5uY4r8qhqaBe4nr2xImtQaXNehPuFMv4/s1600/Escaping+the+Hive.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaxp6u7gTTmS6AZZoBphUAP46R-MHFeqi9i2yVXHZVjn6UuwJHbO_lN8WPWUdzhdDFJQclID1yIZ6fyP8nr_UlGOYkR0U9XchgXOT_eAJHh4K5uY4r8qhqaBe4nr2xImtQaXNehPuFMv4/s320/Escaping+the+Hive.JPG" /></a>She grew up in a hive, a vast, endeavoring conglomeration that stretched from here to there and beyond. The scope of its distance was too far to see. The wealth of effort and sacrifice and unappreciated toil encompassed not only her lifetime but lifetimes before hers – each life, comparatively short., but the lifetimes together stretched into eons. The hive surged with effort; effort of mothers, of fathers, of brothers, sisters, of husbands, of wives, of soldiers and drones. And though it was true, there was a bounty of sweetness, every day demanded more.
In trying to calculate how she could escape and still remain faithful, useful, loyal and loved, she failed. She wasn’t good at math and the formula to keep her wings a flutter seemed beyond her capacity to sustain. The hive was a place where enough was never enough and she grieved at her lack.
Stepping out of the hive wasn’t her idea. Indeed she would have never gone if she hadn’t been pushed. The miracle of her exit remains. She is grateful and ambivalent. The hive had clear and precise measurements. This equals that. That equals this. Outside the hive the measurements were all askew, up for grabs. What was she worth outside of the hive? Some days her life looked like honey. Some days it looked like sloth.
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-16120433435978468142013-08-30T14:17:00.000-07:002013-08-30T14:17:37.033-07:00Some Words about Abiding & Freedom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRBlRV8QynrbRaPDfX3HcPdj4mqVkFs1aTPHb_v9cwxuyNJEmVyN0X4_G1lRAGL3FWrWOk9-65OkBhyikOSVw0H0Op8B8NQ_gpfz49Izfsj_xnfIr0GiM_o23DfSs4n0JsRzYpJFFdcY/s1600/Waiting+in+the+Wings.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRBlRV8QynrbRaPDfX3HcPdj4mqVkFs1aTPHb_v9cwxuyNJEmVyN0X4_G1lRAGL3FWrWOk9-65OkBhyikOSVw0H0Op8B8NQ_gpfz49Izfsj_xnfIr0GiM_o23DfSs4n0JsRzYpJFFdcY/s320/Waiting+in+the+Wings.JPG" /></a>After it was over and they could talk about their freedom they said
– well it’s not like what happened could be explained in concrete terms
– no, not as if we’d timed it so we were able to observe something NOT ABSTRACT like the sudden appearance of smiling dolphins or anything as laughable as that
– of course not and with all the confusion caused by the red sky at the wrong time of the day
– and no indication of moring or night
– yes, we had no choice about the sky
– all we know is grace holds up the clouds and seems to keep our pulses pulsing.
They weren’t in a joking mood but a joke was hard to resist. One of them calmed the other by putting a hand on her trembling shoulder and said
– I’m grateful for the impracticality of the word abide. It’s the only word that comes to mind right now
– Abide? Isn’t that strange. I thought I heard that word just now myself, like a reverse injunction, a mandate of some kind
– Yes, or an invitation
– Abide? It’s not a word that comes up a lot
– not on the radio
– or the internet, but I heard it all the same
– Me too, yes, abide.
They sat together in silence, all stunned by the terror of freedom. One woman (top right), almost being choked by her wings. One woman (bottom middle) reclining, reluctant to make the first move. The other woman (top left) leans into freedom, ready to leap.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFsOv4SmeMCvBqL3LHPoDudmu4tc08jpoZO22u3ljeKH0KJMW8sFBTdIwgsX0C1d8_XFu_epsrySsq-GhR6fAu452s9NQMwLA_pm2bEfvbDsJ7codMFj8Fms_aRPIzzbjcN4dzzbatsw/s1600/lady+almost+being+chocked+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFsOv4SmeMCvBqL3LHPoDudmu4tc08jpoZO22u3ljeKH0KJMW8sFBTdIwgsX0C1d8_XFu_epsrySsq-GhR6fAu452s9NQMwLA_pm2bEfvbDsJ7codMFj8Fms_aRPIzzbjcN4dzzbatsw/s320/lady+almost+being+chocked+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJeYlHFOyKnWRmbR0GiSf1cscDMkbflfz3SFSKIt7bg9oAgSOWQgnHeVs6Gz5cm-fEYPRbygL5lSA1w174vZHalQw_rwDvC9EaJ7NP72n-uh17fkoA9iUpLLhJpiac2w7ek-_9cgIzgo/s1600/lady+lying+down+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJeYlHFOyKnWRmbR0GiSf1cscDMkbflfz3SFSKIt7bg9oAgSOWQgnHeVs6Gz5cm-fEYPRbygL5lSA1w174vZHalQw_rwDvC9EaJ7NP72n-uh17fkoA9iUpLLhJpiac2w7ek-_9cgIzgo/s320/lady+lying+down+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBDuLoZ-M9E0IiMyB2P-5RdE9p4jh9OKahrRVxletg63P1NJ3fVVk-d20IqyDf9N-hBCMqylHdZIuSpK3vkk9EqdXK18_YH9VZr4iDK8M59-Qork_6q3lyJ6Kykk6NhjfdfFntb73lUY/s1600/lady+ready+to+leap+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBDuLoZ-M9E0IiMyB2P-5RdE9p4jh9OKahrRVxletg63P1NJ3fVVk-d20IqyDf9N-hBCMqylHdZIuSpK3vkk9EqdXK18_YH9VZr4iDK8M59-Qork_6q3lyJ6Kykk6NhjfdfFntb73lUY/s320/lady+ready+to+leap+waiting+in+the+wings.JPG" /></a>
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-76368969338299830262013-08-28T13:07:00.000-07:002013-08-28T13:07:59.969-07:00ON THE HUNT<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwA8xB_wM-cRDReiR1UawVoBjOxFJdGuoVTVidvDGoLtYM6whhEZwxCnHbkHpnd7FjwzxWZvAQTIesUJ451hwVS-WUf_H4AXB_6EsP-v8_JTbWL7RzMUrF2oT_JVqHReuR3lVWQaK9V4/s1600/On+the+hunt.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwA8xB_wM-cRDReiR1UawVoBjOxFJdGuoVTVidvDGoLtYM6whhEZwxCnHbkHpnd7FjwzxWZvAQTIesUJ451hwVS-WUf_H4AXB_6EsP-v8_JTbWL7RzMUrF2oT_JVqHReuR3lVWQaK9V4/s320/On+the+hunt.JPG" /></a>On the Hunt
He has looked everywhere.
He has looked to the skies, in nature,
in power, in relationships, in success,
in symbols and dreams and stories
and song. Indeed so fervent is he in
his hunting he has almost silenced that
small inner voice that has been trying
to tell him all along what it is he’s
hunting for. C.S. Lewis was right (of course)
when he said in The Weight of Glory,
“Almost our whole education has
been directed to silencing this shy,
persistent, inner voice; almost all
our modern philosphies
have been devised to convince us that the
good of man is to be found on this
earth.........” .
Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2413853860043652351.post-29541576883237644592013-08-18T22:47:00.001-07:002013-08-18T22:47:35.245-07:00<a href="http://vimeo.com/53759348"></a>Tonia Colleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12243013919357862437noreply@blogger.com0