There are only some joys that can be shared by words spoken in excitement;
There are times that a silent embrace can impart greater peace than any kind word;
Moments where the look of love in someones eyes can heal years of hurt;
Dances where the feelings from one's heart can be expressed in no other tangible way.
Every way of conversation, whether by touch; by word; by look; It has a season, their own times to be expressed. And each way comes with a color of love - of life - and the tapestry that is woven through the movement of each style paints the pictures of our being.
The boldness of the dance, the softness of the silence; the blinding brightness of excitement and the hushed tones of emotion too deep to be given in words - each balances the other to create a life of love so beautiful everyone who sees it can do nothing but stop and admire.
The rich value of what is seen known only to those who have woven the fibers together. And they who weave settle for no less a value than what truly reflects its worth - the time invested finding the perfects of colors, the mixing of palettes known as making love - a love that reflects the intimate blending and knotting and twisting together of every part of the available mediums needed to create something never seen before - and to never be replicated by anyone, no matter how hard they try.
©Kristen Garcia 10-2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Friday, October 3, 2014
Goliath Will Fall
You come out with your booming voice, the reverberation jolting my heart out of a peaceful rest.
All was well and now I'm fighting everything in me that wants to fly away.
You mock the very thing that has brought such a richness of happiness to my soul.
That unbreakably happy girl that ran away and hid in the back corner of my heart had just come back out into a shadowy view and once again, at the sound of the voice, she bolts into the darkness.
I don't have the victory over bear or lion. I have yet to rip them in half with my hands - and there comes the strength to know that which mocks me can be killed at my hand.
And how can I? Every time I thought I had slain that which came to devour what I had within my watch, I stand my ground, only to find it is not the hungry eyes I'm staring at that takes me down.
No, it's the one on the other side of that fight that walks away. Left on my own once again. So the stare down ends in a stalemate, only to be picked up years later when the opportunity presents itself.
You can only be thrown away so many times before that confidence is shaken. It takes years and being thrown into a similar situation to realize it was a draw - you never did win - even though the reverberation had been silenced.
And yet, when the situation becomes different, when it looks like finally a united front, that confidence flees faster than ever when the giant comes with his history to mock and drive fear between my joy and the past.
All the rational evaluation in the world cannot silence the piercing words. And at that point it comes down to the failing attempt at drowning out the doubt, the fear, the idea that once again a stalemate will be drawn in pain. There is not enough work and distraction in the world anymore to forget and push it away.
No. This time, no matter what happens on the other end of the battle line, there will be no stalemate.
Goliath will be silenced.
Even if no one will join me on the line, I'll have his sword in my armory and his head on a staff proudly declaring his death.
Fear shall not win. The mockery of dreams will not shatter what I know to be real.
This time, the rock of the promise will shatter the skull and the Camp of the Righteous will erupt with celebration.
It's time for fear to die. No more draws. Never again. The last stronghold must fall.
©Kristen Garcia 10-2014
All was well and now I'm fighting everything in me that wants to fly away.
You mock the very thing that has brought such a richness of happiness to my soul.
That unbreakably happy girl that ran away and hid in the back corner of my heart had just come back out into a shadowy view and once again, at the sound of the voice, she bolts into the darkness.
I don't have the victory over bear or lion. I have yet to rip them in half with my hands - and there comes the strength to know that which mocks me can be killed at my hand.
And how can I? Every time I thought I had slain that which came to devour what I had within my watch, I stand my ground, only to find it is not the hungry eyes I'm staring at that takes me down.
No, it's the one on the other side of that fight that walks away. Left on my own once again. So the stare down ends in a stalemate, only to be picked up years later when the opportunity presents itself.
You can only be thrown away so many times before that confidence is shaken. It takes years and being thrown into a similar situation to realize it was a draw - you never did win - even though the reverberation had been silenced.
And yet, when the situation becomes different, when it looks like finally a united front, that confidence flees faster than ever when the giant comes with his history to mock and drive fear between my joy and the past.
All the rational evaluation in the world cannot silence the piercing words. And at that point it comes down to the failing attempt at drowning out the doubt, the fear, the idea that once again a stalemate will be drawn in pain. There is not enough work and distraction in the world anymore to forget and push it away.
No. This time, no matter what happens on the other end of the battle line, there will be no stalemate.
Goliath will be silenced.
Even if no one will join me on the line, I'll have his sword in my armory and his head on a staff proudly declaring his death.
Fear shall not win. The mockery of dreams will not shatter what I know to be real.
This time, the rock of the promise will shatter the skull and the Camp of the Righteous will erupt with celebration.
It's time for fear to die. No more draws. Never again. The last stronghold must fall.
©Kristen Garcia 10-2014
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