Sing a beautiful song, you star of the morning.
Sing to your maker a song
that is lost to us
across the rich soundless border of space
Praise the Lord, you ants
work hard and prepare for winter
the leaves are not far from turning
and He didn't make the Sabbath for you
Fly away you butterflies
follow the paths he has drawn in your skies
lines unseen and unknown
but still, you never get lost
Wait to praise Him, you rocks
Wait until the last one of us falls dead
or gives up the hope
by which we live
And I, I will wait until morning
and watch for the beauty inside me
placed as one might place a piece of art
in a private collection to which I have been invited.
On a different note... Maybe Evolutionists aren't that stupid after all
I was playing a game called Bunco that has to do with rolling three dice, trying to get a specific number. If I got three of a kind of the number I was going for, then that would be a Bunco. I got three Buncos. According to statistics, the chances of that are 1 out of 218 times. I didn't roll the dice 218 times, but if I did, then I gues I wouldn't have gotten another one. On the other had, someone got four Buncos, so I didn't win the prize. So I kept rolling to see if chance would be consistant with the math or would decide on a different path, and as I was rolling, one of the dice, through some sort of genetic mutation, had a side with seven dots on it. As I picked it up to examine it, it bit me. Of course, I dropped it and it sprouted a leg and multiplied. So there I was, sitting dumbfounded with a hoarde of mutated seven dotted one legged dice moving around the table. I decided that I couldn't let the evolutionists win and I took my shoe off and started killing them. Most of them tried to push themselves away from the shoe with their one foot. This proved futile. I easily smashed them down to their six dot max ancesters. Some, however, figured out how to hop and I chased them all around the room to well past midnight. I think I got them all. But if this were a horror movie, once I walked off and turned out the light, there would be one close to the camera in a dark corner of the room, the seven dots glowing red and the screen faded to black and the credits rolled. It would hint at a sequel in the rare case that people like stupid horror movies about evolving dice with teeth and one foot...
I miss writing. I have determined to... well... I dno't want to tell you abou tit this way... let's have some fun with it. I've been dabbling a little in ancient history lately. We'll use that as a vehicle.
I have not yet been conqured by sleep.
As the sun climbed tot he peak of its invisable mountain
I have driven sleep from inside my walls
This barbarian tribe stays behind the tree line
waiting again to strike
I laugh at them - HA
My gates are still open
Trade is still going forth
Ideas going out and coming in
That is the trade and bounty of my city.
Caffeine is my sentry, watching from my high walls for the mounting attack
Sleep wants my ideas to fuel the dreams
which it thrives on
Dreams of emotion, terror, delight, freedom
It wants dreams to live in
to provide entertainment for its weary soldiers
I say no.
I shall stand and fight until every last man is overcome.
I shall proceed with the trade I know
Ideas shall pour forth as water from a rock at the hand of God
There shall be no end until everyone is satisfied
There is a rustle in the trees
Arrows float in the sky
My sentries fall.
The battle is here
TO ARMS!!! TO ARMS!!!
CLOSE THE GATE!!!
Ah... I am struck
I can feel numbness from my wound where there should be pain
My sword becomes heavy, my knees weak
I have fallen
Setting Sun - Sun Setting in SoCal...I forget where exactly.....
3 years ago