Language is a Song

Language is a song
Which rolls like grace off the tongue.
A love song watered down into other uses
And sung each day unenthusiastically.

I wonder how exciting it was for Adam
To hear the first words sung by Eve,
And how melodically eloquent
They were to his lonely soul.

Those words,
The realization and expression
Of her complex and gentle spirit

Mei hua
Piaoliang hua
Beautiful flower
Exquisite blossom.


I don’t want to be like the rest
But how – on a satellite as dark as this
Does a man recover his heart again?
How do I aquire
This great desire of my heart,
To know deep down
That I live a life of honor.
To conquer compromise
To quell the complaining
And to quit wasting
This short and precious life
Making it count
For the sole reason that it is holy,
Standing firm against mediocrity.

Music That Moves You (For Lovers)

Music that I have been digging lately. You won’t be disappointed. Promise.

Listen to it LOUD

Alt-J Taro

Local Natives – Airplanes

Bon Iver – I Can’t Make You Love Me (cover)

Kathleen Battle – Lovers

And This

“All I know is in sleep, I can taste and feel need. Life alone makes me shake, if I die before I wake. Every drop that I bleed, it’s a gift You give me. Let me spend my skin on you. Kiss me, whisper, make me new. I’m a creature for your love.

On the day I come home and look at You and Your throne, every joy I’ve seen is a waste when I touch Your gorgeous face. I’m a creature for your love.”

Hidden In The Holes Of The Waterfall

The sun, pours over the trees.
Who lit its flame?
The moon, pulls at the tides.
Who placed it in our sky?
The water, quenches my thirst.
But who is it that gives me life?

They tell me
While standing in brick boxes of human thought
That all of this
Was by accident.
And yet,
I feel the sun warms my face
With the same degree of purpose
As this ink which stains my paper.


I am hidden
in the holes
in the wall
of the waterfall.
I struggle through its mouth
as the water pounds my back
and my feet slide on the rock.
In this moment
in this shallow water
on this beautiful day
I emerge from the cave
and I cannot die
unless the true author
of these words
pulls His pen from my heart
and from my mind.
I wait for death,
but I continue to stand,
for these few minutes
happier than any man alive
as the sun
and the water
beat down beautifully
on my head.


On: Worship

Why would we ever think
Singing the same old songs
Over and over and over
Was ever a worthy form of worship
For the omnipotent creator of the universe?