Friday, January 31, 2014

The Plain Truth

"Some infinities are bigger than others."

The guy who said that must have lived on a plain. Where a sea of grass reaches long for its horizon. Where traveling is one enduring moment with only the rhythm of day and night to remind that time is still moving.

We're walking the empty quiet that is Fort Richardson, a place erected and filled to capacity with blue coated soldiers who would
reconstruct the South after the war to end all wars. Who would tame the uncontrollable frontier with its wild natives who wouldn't settle.
Deer tracks cover the ground inside the fort, and outside the walls the herds of deer watch us unafraid as we pass.

The only remnants of the chaos that reverberated here are neatly framed and hung in rows for us to idly read as a side note to our day.
And when you read the stories, look at how the hospital looms largest in this makeshift village, there is one thing that etches itself clear on every plaque engraving with too many numbers and too many commas,

War is costly.
Most of all in lives

Fear grasping at straws, willing to pay any cost for the holy grail of a secure and prosperous destiny, hoping to quench itself with words penned permanent in ink or walls built high in stone

Willing to let those walls keep out the world,

Until even the wide expanse of the plains can feel claustrophobic

Infinity can feel awful small inside a mind that believes someone else holds it's fragile destiny.

I think how war is not just on battlefields with grand uniforms and flying flags but in homes, in hearts, beating themselves fast and furious in the heat of injustice.
I watch my children go to war with each other, quick to flame over a perceived infraction

I tell my oldest how the forts I've erected in my own life compromise the integrity of my soil,

and how when they finally fall, I am that open plain, alive again, the spirited deer's hooves drumming their rhythm right over me.

I tell her how slippery the slope of entitlement can be and and how an open mind reaches as far as this plain can stretch

But mostly, I tell her how your destiny can be held by no man, no matter how powerful he seems. It is held by your God, whose power runs so deep and wide these plains offer only a glance into its expanse.

Some infinities are bigger than other infinities, darling, remember that and the perceived powers of man dissolve into the infinite plain of love that is your creator, your only true destiny .

Remember that and peace will find you in all your days.

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Location:Jacksboro, tx

Sunday, January 19, 2014


In 3 days you will turn 6.

Round the sun you have traveled six times.

This earth treks unfailingly around its sun, never leaving, never stopping.

Centuries, millenia this love story has been playing itself out.
The love of life for light.

I would circle you for that long. It feels like I have.

When I first looked in your eyes it felt like I was looking into no time.

Like we weren't mother and baby just meeting, like we were that sun and earth who had been playing out our love story for all those countless cycles.

Like we have watched seasons change thousands of times, together, never tiring of the beauty of these ancient patterns.

Never tiring of how something as old as time itself, of the thing which birthed time, this circling of the earth, is new and fresh, never having existed before this moment.

I look at you and it is all new, this has never existed before.

I have never seen you at 6 before, tall, articulate, hair flowing long down your back.

Discovering the things you love in this world, the things that are different and sometimes the same as the things I love.

Expression flows strong from you now, with your newfound words and agility of hands and feet. Speak, dance, write, they are all allowing you to take your Place in this world.

It is new and beautiful to watch. But I have known you for much longer, before there were words to speak, before these bodies gave us wings,

I have known you as an endless love that wraps itself around and around, as faithfully as this world circles its sun.

How long can love last? Can time even measure?

On and on it goes, a circle without end.

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