vbjenkins

[vbjenkins]

The crisp night air begins to crumble and tear

Down the walls and over the sides

My cup runneth over

And I lay quenched

Drenched in the darkness left behind

#poetry

[vbjenkins]

The days fade into night, only to chase it away again, and I relate on too many levels.

#just a thought

[vbjenkins]

Those little explosions which only happen within, ever try to give them the tree in a forest treatment? How far down the rabbit hole do you let it take you before prying yourself loose? Are you loose right now?

[vbjenkins]

Go listen to your favorite sound until you can feel it in your fingertips, or breathe in your favorite smell so deep you have to swim back out, or stand face to the sky so long you become absolutely alone in the world for a moment and it feels like the truest thing you've ever known, in a way that inspires peace inside and out.

#Go Do This #A Little Retreat

[vbjenkins]

There's a pounding roar outside

And I'm hiding out in the open

Arms akimbo

Heart in limbo

I am the roar of silence

No one hears

#poetry

[vbjenkins]

#_large #music #When Is the Future #vnv nation

[vbjenkins]

Suppose We Cried

suppose we cried

tears for every wound inflicted for every one afflicted the wrongfully convicted the woefully evicted the unjustifiably acquitted

suppose we cried

instead of ingested endless footage of the protested the bullet proof vested the fatally arrested

suppose we cried

not just out for the world to hear not just up to God's ear

suppose we cried

tears for every wound inflicted for every one afflicted the wrongfully convicted the woefully evicted the unjustifiably acquitted

#poetry #_large

[vbjenkins]

Suppose I had wings

like the dawning day

    and flew across the ocean.

Even then your powerful arm

    would guide and protect me.

Or suppose I said, “I’ll hide

in the dark

    until night comes

    to cover me over.”

But you see in the dark

    because daylight and dark

    are all the same to you.  

Psalm 139:9-12

[vbjenkins]

And...

Her words came roaring forth, like so many waterfall droplets. A cacophony of defeat which met only with more of herself.

[vbjenkins]

The Ever-Ending Story

I’d run ten thousand miles, if I thought it might bring me to another place. Life is a treadmill, these days. These months. I’d run if I hadn’t forgotten how to feel the world slip beneath my feet, faster and faster still. I used to pretend a man with an ax chased me, as I trained on the stretch of asphalt in front of the only house that ever felt like home. Childhood moments of invincibility and glassless ceilings, they crash apart with the years which follow. Maybe I wasn’t careful.

I’d run ten thousand miles more, if I thought for just a moment, I might get somewhere. Not here. If I thought--don’t even need to know--it all added up to anything. It wouldn’t have to be something. Just anything. Nothing is eating me alive. I used to push myself further than I felt capable of going, that bar lowers like a limbo stick with the passage of time and the engulfing nothingness. 

I’d run ten thousand more, if I thought there was a point to hurrying aimlessly. Speed. Strength. Hustle. On empty, I’ve reached the end of nowhere and there’s nowhere to run, anyhow. I could turn around, but there’s not hope and growth waiting in returning to whatever that place was about. I used to think I knew. 

I’d run ten thousand miles in reverse, and maybe get some traction. I could watch the world I knew from a new angle. Maybe I missed something I can pick up on without going back the way I came, or heading any discernible direction. Looking forward, running away from what lies in wait ahead of me, and stumbling into some adventure, once more. 

#_large #various written bits

[vbjenkins]

Good friends help you to find important things when you have lost them. Your smile, your hope and your courage.

Doe Zantamata (via gnngoodquotes)

[vbjenkins]

Thought is the thought of thought.

James Joyce's Ulysses

#Quotally awesome #James Joyce #Ulysses #Thought

[vbjenkins]

But herein is the Bible itself greatly wronged. It nowhere lays claim to be regarded as the Word, the Way, the Truth. The Bible leads us to Jesus, the inexhaustible, the ever unfolding Revelation of God. It is Christ “in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,” not the Bible, save as leading to Him.

George MacDonald

#Quotally awesome #Bible #George MacDonald

[vbjenkins]

I can't stop staring at this gorgeousness.

Fran Mora (b.1979) - Flores II. Oil and collage on linen.

#film & photo #_large

[vbjenkins]

If you do not take the distinction between good and bad very seriously, then it is easy to say that anything you find in this world is a part of God. But, of course, if you think some things really bad, and God really good, then you cannot talk like that. You must believe that God is separate from the world and that some of the things we see in it are contrary to His will. Confronted with a cancer or a slum the Pantheist can say, “If you could only see it from the divine point of view, you would realize that this also is God.” The Christian replies, “Don’t talk damned nonsense.” For Christianity is a fighting religion. It thinks God made the world – that space and time, heat and cold, and all the colors and tastes, and all the animals and vegetables, are things that God “made out of His head” as a man makes up a story. But it also thinks that a great many things have gone wrong with the world that God made and that God insists, and insists very loudly, on our putting them right again.

C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

#nonsense #Christianity #C. S. Lewis #quotally awesome #_large

[vbjenkins]

This every soul seeketh and for the sake of this doth all her actions, having an inkling that it is; but what it is she cannot sufficiently discern, and she knoweth not her way, and concerning this she hath no constant assurance as she hath of other things.

Plato

#quotally awesome #plato #being lost #knowing the way #being

[vbjenkins]

The Music in Me

Nothing translates so well as music. It meets me where I’m at and leads me deeper still. Into the void, or the surprising lack thereof. Deeper into joy, or into the darkness before the dawn breaks through at long last. Each drumbeat decodes what has been lurking beneath my surface, and uproots the evils lying about as though they own the space inside. As if they own me.

#various written bits #music #coping