The Fight For Freedom

Happy Independence Day, everyone! Before we get bogged down in the gimmicks and promises of another election year, let’s take a moment to remember how far this country has come. America was always an experiment in government, and there were times over these past few years when it seemed like that experiment was over, but as long as people still believe in freedom and are willing to stand up to tyrants around the world and on our own shores, then the spirit of freedom will live on, and so will the American experiment.

O Say, do you still believe

In the land of the free

In those freedoms fought and won

Amid patriotic battle cries

Or do you go along to get along

Keep your head down low

Never interfering or rocking the boat

But hoping to float through life

As freedom passes by

Will you honor the fallen and live without fear

Or will survival take over ‘til you trade all your freedom for safety

And lose most of yourself along the way.

Can you still fight for freedom?

Are you willing to fight for tomorrow

Or can you only live for today?

O say, where has your faith gone

This great country of mine

Does freedom still ring in your heart

Or are you following the crowd?

Have you traded kings and monarchs for a similar crowd

Or will you still stand and fight for freedom

To strike a distance from the crowd

To remain a place of hope and refuge for the poor.

As we celebrate Independence Day

Will the voice of patriots sing aloud

Or will this day pass by us, unnoticed, unfelt, unvowed?

So Strike a match and light the way

As those brave rockets burst in the sky

And remember the patriot’s starting cry

Give me Liberty or let me die.

LABRINTHINE

This life can lead us to strange places, places we never imagined we’d be. At times it feels like a labyrinth, a series of choices that guides us to or away from a certain path. Many people talk about destiny as if it were a train on rails, and we had very little choice in the matter. I believe instead that destiny is a series of crossroads, not something predetermined but something that we find, that we create, with the choices we make. It’s a maze that seems to go on forever or at least for the rest of our lives. Join me as I navigate the maze with this special poem I wrote about the twist and turns of life.

LABRINTHINE

Dedalus has nothing on the intricate designs of God

Walls and traps, twist and turns, this life is rather odd.

The world swirls on its axis while our souls without and within

We’re gung ho, we take a leap and find ourselves at wit’s end.

We learn languages, we learn instruments, we develop different hobbies

But after all of this, to fit into the world, we chose to become carbon copies.

We seek out our truest selves but hide them for our friends

For if our friends knew the real us, would that be the end?

Why should it be? The real is the better.

Should we follow the law of God by the spirit or the letter.

How do we navigate the twists and turns, the traps of life?

Is that the voice of God I hear or a devil seeking strife?

How can we let go of our pride, our desire to hide?

How can we unleash the child that’s inside?

I don’t claim to know, this maze has only one exit.

We were born into this maze and in this maze we will die

but the most important thing is the love that we tried.

Were we a light in someone’s dark, a hand to guide their way

or did we ignore our fellow man and go about our day?

Did we stand against the crowd and their vengeful cries

or did we go along to get along, discontent in our disguise.

They say a maze hides the truth, blind your point of view

but the truth is that’s what humans do.

We’ve no idea we’re even in a maze or that our choices lead to change

for better or for worse, for health or for pain.

We choose the twists and turns of our life

because we’re scared to go the other way.

We’re scared of what waits around the corner, what lies at the end of the day.

So we twist and turn to avoid this choice and the other.

We twist and turn so we won’t be bothered.

Then we complain about the way life goes

how we always wind up somewhere we never intended to go.

We curse the labyrinth and its Creator

but in the end we may find we are greater

Greater than we were when we entered the maze

Wiser, smarter, and ready to greet those days

Those days after the maze where ask our questions and find our answers

Where the maze’s creator stands in all his grandeur.

We take back our curses and bow at his feet

For the maze has brought us out of suffering into an eternal feast.

An Ode To Dreamers

If we’ve learned anything from the strange times we find ourselves in, it’s that life is too short to put dreams on the back burner. Walt Disney was dismissed as a talentless animator. Steve Jobs dropped out of college and started Apple from his family’s garage. J. K. Rowling’s initial pitch for the Harry Potter books was denied by every major publishing house. If these people had stopped there, you’d have no idea who they are. So, I say let’s raise a toast to the dreamers. And maybe, just maybe, we can find the courage to dream as they did.

Let’s raise a toast to those that dare to dream

who see the cruel and wicked ways

this world craves and refuse to let them be.

Here’s to the men who challenge the norm

and the woman who take the world by storm.

Here’s to the child who sees the emperor for who he is

and not for what his status claims.

Let’s celebrate those who take the world in their reigns

who refuse to accept the status quo.

These men, these woman, like the precious child, they held on to their dreams

and wouldn’t let them go.

Here’s to those who refuse to lose the hope of youth

who rise on the wings of their dreams

and chase them til they come true.

So I’ll raise a glass to those dreamers

the men, women, and children too.

I’ll raise a glass to them

and pray their dreams come true.

The Long Way Round

Sorry to keep you all waiting. In my faith, we view life as a pilgrimage, and while it’s great to see others find their dreams so quickly, there’s something to be said for the journey. I’ve been on many roads and tried different things, and the friends I kept from these experiences make them all worthwhile. I’m getting ready to celebrate another year of life, and something I’ve learned is those who seem to have it figured out probably took many twisting roads to get there, roads with high points and low. When night falls, it’s hard to even see the road we’re on, to believe we’re going the right direction, but daylight will come again, and if we keep moving forward we’ll count ourselves blessed to find our place among friends.

The Long Way Round

Some men are born to dream

and run swiftly to claim their crown

chasing their certain destiny

But me. I took the long way round.

Some men see a plan

and with a narrow focus

never stray from their goal.

But me. I took another road.

Some men have it all figured out

never pondering, never in doubt.

But me. I had to pave my own route.

Through many years of searching

though myriad paths I’ve trod

I’ll keep taking the long way round

so long as I find my home with God.

Museum of Memories

In our current climate, it’s easy to get lost in nostalgia and “if onlys.” If only we had voted a certain way. If only our government had done this instead of that. If only I had more time to devote to writing. Yes sir, guilty as charged. “If onlys” can be harmful to our productivity and our participation in society, but our memories don’t have to held us back. They can be like a museum, telling the story of our life, and we can learn how much we’ve grown. But we can’t let ourselves get trapped in the museum forever. That exit doesn’t mean our journey is over. It’s only beginning. It begins anew every day, and we all must decide what to learn and how to live. Embrace yourself, warts and all, and prepare for the new day. Thanks for reading!

Museum of Memories

I wonder through these halls

to stop and stare at the pictures on the walls.

All my memories surround me

I’m entangled in a dream

there I am learning to walk

that child laughing, a giggle and a squawk

There I am learning how to write

the pencil of destiny sitting to my right

Here I am again, learning how to drive

I can still remember and see the fear in my eyes.

There’s me, going off to school

leaving home for the first time

Very few can tell you, truthfully, they had no tears in their eyes

Surrounded by my past,

emotions swirl together to create a storm…

No, something else, not a storm but a swirl of memories

My life rushes past me like a gust of wind

My face buffeted by memories

but it’s not the big milestones that held the most sting

It’s the little hours

the time spent talking and listening

the hours spent playing games or sitting around the fire

the everyday celebrations, the gritty facts of life

These are the things we remember and long for the most

not the time we got our first promotion

or the time we learned to drive

but the times we learned to live

How to live is something we still learn everyday

The Stories We Don’t Tell

We live in a very polarizing time. Many people are afraid to share their beliefs for fear of judgment. So we keep many stories to ourselves, but these stories, these experiences can weigh us down. It’s important to find someone in your life to share your struggles, hopes, dreams, and even nightmares. This starts with bringing down the walls we have built to keep others out, to protect our hearts. While it’s not necessarily wise to lower the walls for just anybody, it is vital to have at least one person to know the real you and will help you carry those stories that you don’t tell.

The stories we don’t tell

keeping them close inside

letting our wounds swell

til there’s nothing more

and no one left to tell.

The stories we don’t share

assuming no one cares

keeping our pain to ourselves

til the loneliness overwhlems.

The stories we don’t tell disform and disarm

leaving us with nothing but the stories

the stories we save for ourselves.

The stories we do tell

baring all

scars hidden, now brought to light

no longer consumed

no longer frightened but enlightened

our grief is not our own

once we take that first step off this lonely road

we gather our struggles and blow our horn

and down tumble the walls of Jericho.

The Wandering Road

This life can be full of surprises, some good and some bad. We face countless roadblocks and lose sight of our path, sometimes losing all sight of it. I think so many of us, myself included, want our paths to be like an interstate with clear signs and directions, and a chance to turn around if we miss our exit, but there can be great benefit to getting lost. Sometimes when we lose our way, we find ourselves, and sometime we find other who are just as lost as we are. Two strangers together on a dusty road, who try together to find the way home. I hope you enjoy this new poem!

The Wandering Road

A ray of hope

Shines bright through the night

A little glimmer

to invigorate my sight

Though I have strayed and wandered

Though I’ve been lost and forlorn

I see now

This life has so much on store

What will I be? Where will I go?

It’s okay to not know

Somehow I’m on the path made for me

Am I lost until I’m found

Or is it in getting lost that my path will find me?

This world holds so many secrets

mysteries beyond measure

greif beyond cost

But it holds so much magic

memories without number

laughter without stop

and adventure beyond all reckoning

So if you’re feeling lost

join me on this dusty road

two strangers met together

to ease and lighten the other’s load.

Wings

I’m currently at a crossroads in my life that requires deep searching. I know most of you have been there too, so this poem is dedicated to all of you who have forgotten who you are or traversed confusing roads. This poem is a reminder to myself as much as you that there’s always a reason to try, so if you’re feeling grounded, look to those around you, and let them help you get to where you need to be.

A world away

a world apart

A world to end

and a world to start

We search for our place

our time and our season

we search the abyss and the heavens

looking for a reason

a reason to live

and a reason to try

we look to our dreams

and spread our wings to fly

But sometimes we find friendless skies

we get knocked out

and crash to the ground

and debate whether to stay and lie down

But hope breaks through the dark clouds above

and we find that our reason to try, our reason to live

and our dreams all lie

within that world that brought us to birth

that nurtured our dreams, our hopes,

those reasons can be bound up in a single ray of truth

our reason for everything is love

and love though buffeted by winds and flame

though blown off course and tossed to the ground

love will always reset its course

and bring its healing touch

to all who have forgotten how to fly.

Swept Away

This poem goes out to all those military families waiting to be reunited with their loved ones, whether here or in the next life. I’d like to take a moment to thank all the brave men and women who gave their life to protect this country from sea to sea. As we enjoy time off tomorrow, we’ll use it to think of you and dream of being together again on the same shore. Happy Memorial Day!

Swept Away

The rising tide came

and swept you from the shore

I stare across the sea

searching for the one I knew before

The sand dances across my feet

while the waves tickle my toes

But even nature’s mirth

won’t take away my woe.

You stare across the sea

searching for the child you knew before

But now I am grown.

You could not see me

For I am not that boy

You settle in the sand

and think your life’s destroyed.

We stare across the same sea

Looking from different shores

Gather your courage, take up your oar

We’ll find each other, you’ll see

We’ll be looking across the same sea

side by side and hand in hand

staring across that same sea

looking from the same shore.

New Things Are Coming!

Update: The new blog is up and running. You can check it out here.

raisingdoughblog.com.

This piece is a bit light-hearted, but I thought it would be a great way to introduce some exciting news. A new blog is coming. This one is all about baking, but not how to get the recipe perfect. It will be with about how to work with imperfections, so you never have to throw away dough again. It’s all salvageable. It just takes a little improvisation. Now, here’s the short fiction to introduce the new blog:

Raising Dough

            The beauty of a baker is he sits and watches his passion grow. The flour, eggs, and butter merge their contents into a single dough, shaped by the baker’s nimble hands. He kneads and kneads to fulfill a need, not to fill but to bake. His passion overtakes him in a moment. The kitchen calls out to him, like a child calling for her father. He rushes in to see what’s wrong but is greeted with an invitation to play. He gathers the ingredients carefully in his arms and sets apart to mix them. His long-trusted partner whisks them into dough. The creative juices flow, and he finds himself experimenting, adding whatever he can find. A new creation is being born. A new recipe. All that’s needed now is pressure. The baker scoops the dough into a pan and turns on the heat. He watches his creation rise and set like a montage of a child learning to crawl, then stand, then walk. A sweet aroma fills the air. The baker’s smile escapes his lips, and he pulls the cake from the oven. He can’t resist. He tries a bite and is transported to heaven. Through all the anxious doubt, all the uncertain elements, he’s raised a perfect piece of dough, and he can’t wait to share it with the world.