If it seems like this is a day later, and the theme is become week one: every day, week two: every other day, and week three: every three days.....you're wrong. I actually was able to write days 13 and 14 on time, but was having a few problems getting online, so I'm forced to wait until today to publish them, even though they were done on time. Oh the silliness of life! Well, so life's not perfect. So what? I say, "let it go, and live for the day anyway!" Carpe Diem!!!!!!
Prayer
Vene Sancte Spiritus
Simple words, running under a haunting descant,
the simple repetition
of a complex need for something
I do not understand,
but feel in my bones.
Vene Sancte Spiritus
A meditiation,
an opening of one's self to
something greater, something powerful,
a oneness with life old and new.
Vene Sancte Spiritus
I allow it to envelop my senses,
to carry me up like the perfumed air,
to empty myself,
only to fill up again.
Vene Sancte Spiritus
The rhythm continues,
never ceasing,
there in the quiet moments,
that simple thought
that propels me forward.
The Climb
It was my enemy,
in another life,
when I was someone else,
when I was afraid.
I cursed it and called it names,
because the climb beat me down,
held me back,
tortured my tired body upon its sides.
I was battered, torn, beaten and tired,
and I gave up.
The pain was too great
and I could not endure it.
I returned to my enemy,
a year older, a year stronger,
and met with it again,
in what I thought would be a battle,
and it was not.
I was the conquerer.
I was not afraid.
I have been re-made,
and my enemy has become my friend.
Today's first poem is something that stuck with me from the week of Easter, and I've been struggling/ enjoying trying to put it into words. It's not so much that I had this poem planned, per se, more like something that's just been running around inside me, and I had to get it out...this is what happened.
The second is a true story of an experience on the bike, and for those who care I will tell you that it was the North Park Lake Loop, in particular. The first time I did it, that hill my the boathouse was a doozy for me. I didn't have an idea how to even try and climb a hill, let alone succeed without causing myself undue pain. I wanted to quit. I was afraid of the pain. Now I see ahill and I know that it might be painful, but that I can climb it. Even though it might hurt, and even if I have to stop in the middle or change my pacing, I know I can make it. But I still hate hills. I recently witnessed someone struggling up a hill that i rode easily, and was reminded of this particular climb that once seemed huge to me, and now seems like just a small bump.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
1 comment:
Prayer 1: hooray for inserting Latin into the poem structure! A little bit of ancient language can go a long way when used appropriately, and I like what you did with it here. However, I thought at first that you'd misspelled the more common "Veni Sancte Spiritus" (Come Holy Spirit) sung usually around Pentecost. But then I looked again and realized that what you have translates to something different but wholly legitimate, "Revered Holy Spirit." Close to the first, perhaps, but a little different. I'm trying to remember if you've done a poem regarding music, and if you have, it's been a while. Very nice meditation.
Poem 2: I like the feeling in this one, it's helped even more by your notes below about it. I like the narrative quality to it - a clear story to tell, beginning, middle, and end.
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