the coffee station

a guarantee and not promise that i'll never let your love slip from my hands

peace please

burma

january days

soon and very soon
we are going to see the king
soon and very soon
we are going to see the king

no more dying there
we are going to see the king
hallelujah
hallelujah
we are going to see the king

welcome wagon

and you shall go forth again
skip about like calves
coming from their stalls at last

it's raining out right now. all the christmas snow melted away and has left me here. i'm in my room with M. Ward strumming the guitar and freshly brewed hazelnut coffee in my favorite virginian mug.

the end of a year.
a wildly adventurous year.
a year of learning-first in school, then in a garden, then in the world of thailand.
a year of loving good friends and losing others.
a year in which i changed my address as frequently as earth changed seasons.

i've laughed more than i've cried
and come to think of it, i mainly cried for good things
i've loved more than i've lost
which says a great deal because i have lost a lot

and for all these things i am really grateful to the one who gave them . who thought i deserve the world. who laughed, loved, and lost with me. the one who is constantly pulling at my heart strings. the one who i haven't talked to in ages. the one who made it all, loves it all, and is in it all.

peace 2010.

symphony

To live content with small means;

to seek elegance rather than luxury;

and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable;

and wealthy, not rich;

to study hard,

think quietly,

talk gently,

act frankly,

to listen to stars and buds,

to babes and sages,

with open heart;

await occasions,

hurry never,

this is my symphony

-William Henry Channing

Found this gem of a poem in a nice little coffee shop in Chiang Mai, Thailand this year. I thought about this morning because I intended to go to a nice little coffee shop in grand rapids today.

home

I heard once that the ancient egyptians had fifty words for sand and the eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep and for that there are no words.