I read something today in Tom Davis' book Scared that really stuck with me... A young girl in Swaziland remembers part of an English poem called Tears by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Those tears will run
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.
I wrote this a couple years ago, but i still feel much the same way.
Inshallah
a good year that only gets better
inshallah
you think this is about you mon ami
its not
rest assured its bigger than you OR me
your words are strong in their own way
i remember
its not everyday sunday
inshallah
i am free as a bird, yet trapped in this heat
moving in circles, bel far niente
yet still waiting, hoping for a heartbeat
your heart IS my heart
your hand IS my hand
your swag IS my swag
the LORD is my all…
my mother, my father, my brother, sister, lover, neighbor
HE will tell me when the time is right
nos vemos algun día
inshallah
my heart warms, beats fast, skips around
mi pena me hace fuerte
mis recuerdos keep me firm on the ground
i am supafly and confident
yet i am nothing compared to you
i am nothing if not passionate
the music plays and the sun goes down
i lean towards you
can you feel that?
inshallah
i love both quietly and loudly – but ALWAYS hard
another year passes, i am so very blessed
i can't wait till sunday
inshallah
•·.·´¯`·...@
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