Why Life Is Worth Living
March 29, 2012


easter egg hunting                          looking up and seeing the sky
                              opening your eyes underwater                       burning candles
    drinking water when you’re thirsty               watching the snow fall
                           seeing fireworks explode                                  laying in bed
dipping your toes into a river                   intertwining your fingers with another’s
       feeling the sun on your skin                        painting what you imagine
singing along to songs         having bonfires                  sitting by a fireplace
                   riding horses in the fall                 chocolate milk
        watching lightning split the sky                 the way you feel after workouts
fishing on a calm day                 knowing you are worth something
                                  swimming in the summer                  watching the sun rise
backrubs            that ‘new baby smell’                    smiling
      proving to others that you can do anything                     having family dinners
falling hopelessly in love                        skipping rocks
                    helping others who need you         laying with the one you love
writing because you want to                     sipping hot cocoa in the winter
                               feeling strong                      capturing time through photographs
holding a new baby                breathing after it rains                trampolines
          playing sports          expressing yourself           building things
listening to the ‘peepers’ chirp                                              learning every day
creating new life                   making dinner for fun           planting a garden
                 seeing old friends       staying up late reading        feeling accomplished
suddenly understanding a math problem            experimenting
              falling asleep without any time between when you climb in and sleeping
          seeing your family                   picking daisies
getting sand between your toes                    devoting yourself to something you <3
                                   saving lives                               hearing the melody of a piano            
   sharpening a pencil because you’ve worn it down creating something beautiful
              realizing life is better than in the movies                          running
making shapes with sparklers                               curling up in a blanket
                          movie nights                   cutting the grass          observing the stars
thanksgiving dinners                ice cream on a hot summer day            popsicles

When I am alone, I feel I am as unreachable as the inky bottom of the ocean.
When I am praised, I glow inside and out with rosy pink satisfaction.
When I am depressed, I believe that only I can pull myself up from the dark blue swirls in my mind.
When I am loved, the best of me comes out and waves a bright, sunny hello.
When I am angry, I cannot suppress a cloud of black and red rage from emerging.
When I am me, I do not know what I can create or destruct.
I do not know why I can vary so differently,
As the shades of a multi-hued rainbow,
But I am who I am.

When I am alone, I feel I am as unreachable as the inky bottom of the ocean.
When I am praised, I glow inside and out with rosy pink satisfaction.
When I am depressed, I believe that only I can pull myself up from the dark blue swirls in my mind.
When I am loved, the best of me comes out and waves a bright, sunny hello.
When I am angry, I cannot suppress a cloud of black and red rage from emerging.
When I am me, I do not know what I can create or destruct.
I do not know why I can vary so differently,
As the shades of a multi-hued rainbow,
But I am who I am.

The Life of a Work of Art

The life of a work of art
Begins with an idea,
Just like any mother conceives the idea
Of new life inside her swelling tummy.
Conception; the piece is put together in one’s mind
Detail by detail, until it is formed enough to meet its body; a canvas.
Through rough pencil outlines,
The art is born
From the first touch of pencil to canvas.
The soul and body of the art become welded together.
But, life has begun since the moment of conception.
The piece is fragile and easily destructible;
A newborn.
It must be touched gently, as its lines grow darker and thicker
And the picture begins to change.
An infant, the general outlines are visible.
As a toddler, the artwork is growing from a skeletal sketch
To a generally-shaded drawing.
A child, the piece is maturing quickly.
Paint brush strokes define basic colors and shapes.
A pubescent teen, the art is nearly finished.
Matted, it becomes a young adult.
Signed, framed, and mounted,
The photo is an adult.
It remains on its mount ‘til the paint cracks and yellows
And deceases after a natural disaster
Extinguishes the life of a work of art.

Place your right hand
Over your left breast.
Don’t you feel that?
It’s called Purpose.

It beats every second
To keep you alive and well for a reason;
A purpose.

The reason may not be clear right now.
In fact, mud may be clearer.
But, the dirt has to settle from
The slippery water
Eventually.

You were born
To live.

Don’t cut the purpose short.
Let it go out on its own
When it is time.

So live.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
My heart pushes on,
Although my body and mind cry out in detest.
My ribs confine it,
Like a circular room with bare, barred walls.
My own physical self was designed
To keep my heart away from the outside world.
It remains trapped by a bony cage
And shielded by ivory skin.
There are no windows
Or cracks in the shutters.
This was God’s design;
The heart is not meant to be given to another, I guess.
Only He could reveal it,
If my body were to be popped open like a locket.
No dim rays of hope-filled sunlight
Peek in through the bars of my bones.
I am to keep my heart locked away forever as I sit,
Listening to the clock keep ticking.