I was going through some ancient journals today. Most of the stuff was too personal or embaressing or both to post, but I did find a few things rather amusing. So for the next little while, until I decide to stop, I’m going to just post journal stuff. It’s easier than thinking. Plus my life is pretty mundane, but it used to be exciting. So I’m posting stuff from the exciting time.
Click more, for journal entries and baaaaaaad poetry.
Okay, this is from my Ireland journal. In June, 1999 I went with Countryside Bible Church youth group to Tralee, Ireland on a missions trip. This is a poem I wrote toward the end of our stay. I don’t know what I was feeling, but…
“I Cry Out”
I reach for the stars
Feeling my way about
the universe with all the
Audaciousness of youth
Looking for a tangible, realistic
Way to acheive my goals
Without giving in to my fears.
I know I have the strength
But do I have the sense?
Have I a mind which can
Be useful in reaching for the
Very stars I see?
Or am I more dream than
Substance
More illusion than
Real
Seeing only with my mind’s eye
Lacking the sight for harsh
Reality—-
Oh, Help! Heaven help me
For I see not who I am
But only who I want to be
My eyes are too inward
Contemplating my own soul
And I miss the needs around me
My friends—my family
And so on, and so on. Talk about bad poetry. That one was worthy of amatuer night at a coffee house. Everybody snap your fingers now…
Posted by Mandy at 15.04.04 18:48