Pirates

These lyrics are so encouraging to me right now. Sails by Ballydowse.

Like pirates off your shores of waste
our kiss you can forget
a newborn sense of smell and taste
for things you've never met
our nose no longer knows the heel of
give it more and give it faster
our pleasures still retain their feel for honor is their master
three winds fill the sails of my sisters and my brothers
grace from beyond, scorn from behind,
and love for each other

God of all gods father of each holy one
God of all gods father of each lowly one
God of all gods like a mother to the orphaned ones
God of all gods wholly other to the broken half of me

dim memory brings the shade of lesser days around me
back before the waking, the time of my founding
dark was the heart with but its own desires
when a god will not be tamed, man will serve a liar
from the shores i saw the sails of my
sisters and my brothers
left behind the old life, born into another

eighteen years upon these waves storm, salt, and pounding
i wouldn't trade a minute of the seeing or the doubting
alive i am in the teeth of faith, few answers i have found
but the call that brings me back to life, to it i am bound
three winds fill the sails of my sisters and my brothers
grace from beyond, scorn from behind,
and love for each other

the south wind

I'm almost finished reading Jeanne Guyon's commentary on Song of Songs. I wanted to share this here:

"As the Bridegroom has spread abroad His love and His soul in the heart of the bride, so she in turn pours her soul into the heart of her Beloved. As a snowbank upon a hillside exposed to the sun comes forth from itself, gives up its form, and melts and runs away on the side on which the warmth-giving rays fall upon it, so the soul of the spouse melted and ran toward the voice of her Well Beloved, coming forth from self and the confinement of her nature to follow Him who has called her.

But how is this holy melting of the soul into her Beloved accomplished? The extreme delight of the Bridegroom in the thing loved, produces in her a spiritual impotence, so that she no longer has the power to dwell in self; and thus, like melted balsam, deprived of consistency and solidity, she runs and flows into that which she loves. She does not hurry herself by a sudden effort, nor does she cling and clasp, as though she would become united by a force, but she only flows gently along, like a transparent and liquid thing, into the Divinity she adores. And as we see the clouds, thickened and driven by the south wind, melt and turn into rain, and no longer able to contain themselves, fall and run upon the ground, mingling with and tempering the earth so that they become one with it; so the soul, which, though loving, was still dwelling in self, issues forth in this holy and blessed stream, leaving herself behind forever, not only to be united to her Beloved, but to be wholly mingled and made one with Him."
-Treatise on the Love of God, Saint Francis de Sales, excerpt taken from Jeanne Guyon's Song of the Bride

So.....

So ladies, what do we talk about on this blog of ours? I was going to post pictures of us and forgo the writing, but I can't get to facebook because my school network has blocked it.

Speaking of blocked websites, my blog was blocked for a while, too....which is strange cause I'm not sure what is so inappro about it. Maybe they blocked it cause of the tattoo discussion.

Or maybe it was my weekly anarchy and bomb-building column. Who knows.

Ta-da!

Hmmm... I'm pretty darn positive that no one will read this. And anyway, that's why they call them blogs.

???


There is my contribution.

In other news...Sarah Palin? Really? What happened to Timothy P.?

in the beginning

I don't know how to write on a blog.  Do I write like no one will read this but the three of us?  Blogs confound me.  And they're kind of intimidating, which is why I've never had one before. Blogs taunt, "Absolutely anyone could read this, so make it good."  Not that I think anyone will read it.  But they could, and that's the problem.  How do you address an audience of possibly anyone and probably no one?  It's all so dramatic, and completely inconsequential.  Who cares, Sarah Taylor, who will be reading what you write?  But I do...