The Ballad of the Cookie Sea

There once was a town at the edge of the world,
Where all of the men were brave and free.
But they spent their lives in the wild pursuit
Of the ravenous beast of the dry Cookie Sea.

Their rough-hewn ships were sweet and brown;
Built from the fruit of the cacao tree.
Full-loaded with goods and the tools of their trade
Each day they set sail on the deep Cookie Sea.

Their weapons were mighty, but shrouded in hush,
In buzzing and crackling mystery.
Wearing tall buttered boots, and thick buttered gloves,
The sailors kept watch o'er the still Cookie Sea.

Then one day they saw him, the monster! the beast!
His crooked teeth bared in voracious glee.
His hot, sticky breath filled their senses and sails
As it swept o'er the waves of the vast Cookie Sea.

The men were as brave as the monster was fierce.
Not one of them tempted to slow, or to flee.
They readied their weapons, their wires and rods,
Prepared to do war on the wet Cookie Sea.

They fired their charge, and the light split the sky!
The sailors fought using electricity!
Their ships sent out bolt after bolt toward the beast
As it chomped through the crumbling Cookie Sea.

Alas, though their courage waned not, nor their skill,
The monster was heedless of weapon and plea.
One by one, each ship fell to the ravenous maw
Of the monster devouring the wide Cookie Sea.

But oh, the songs sung by the people who miss them,
And oh, the great statues to their memory!
They'll ne'er be forgotton, those brave sailing men,
And their Shock-olate Ships on the great Cookie Sea!


- To the G children, and especially to the one who will one day learn to say "ch".

Two but One

I do not often tell you of my love,

Because I do not thank my heart for beating,

Or my bones for their strength.

You are my breath.

When I speak, you are the words.

My hands move to do work with your fingers,

And my feet walk with your pace.

I cannot fathom my life without you,

Because it would no longer be my life.

For as long as we both live in this world,

You will be a part of me.

And I will love you,

Completely.

Overdue Translation and Explanation

I just realized that I never translated my poem last year, so here it is for the two of you who read this blog, but don't speak Spanish infinitely better than I do.

My Friend

You shine like a diamond
Because the love of the Lord
Fills your heart.

And the light reaches to the heavens
In a fountain of silver and gold.

When I am far away, I can see it,
And my spirit sings with yours.

The blessing of your friendship
Gives me peace during the storm
And light in darkness.

I wrote this specifically for my hispanic friends, who had been an integral part of my days for the last eight years. It has been a year, now, since we moved away, and it is just as true today. They inspire me.

In truth, I feel this way about so many people, and I feel amazingly blessed to have been given the opportunity to know and love some of the truest images of Christ on this earth. My family, immediate and extended, my church friends, my neighbors; everyone who I have had to leave at one moment or another in my life, still lights my way in what can be a dark and ugly world.

Your Song

Today I sit, and try to play your song.
It drags its feet. The tune is weak.
The words all come out wrong.
Because it isn't mine,
It falls and limps along.

God gave you knowledge, gifts...
I waited.
Gave you mercy, love...
Breath bated
Finally you sang and played…

Your songs were full of sorrow, grief,
Loneliness and desperation.
Nothing that could heal or comfort,
Death in place of consecration.

He gave you one more gift,
the best That He can give to man.

You grabbed a hammer, let it fall...
And crushed your hands

So here I sit, and sing this song.
I pray, I wait, I grieve 
Through tears.

And I will try to play your song
Until you're ready.
Even though I wait for all my years.

I May Not See

I may not see the sun tomorrow morning.
The clouds tonight are heavy, dark and deep.
But even if it’s only in the heavens,
And though the bulging, thundering skies may weep,

There will be a dawn.

For the clouds will still be lit with gold
Even if I, on the earth, below the rain,
Am cold.

All nature will awaken;
The night will still be shattered,
And the ground be shaken.

Though my eyes, my mind, my body
May be trapped here on this world,
My soul, my spirit, cries
With a thousand thundering angels,
Wings unfurled,
As His glory lights the skies.
HE IS RISEN!

Mi Amiga

Brillas como un diamante, porque
El amor del Seňor llena tu corazón,

Y la luz alcanza al cielo
En una fuente de
Plata y oro.

Cuando estoy lejos de ti,
Puedo ver lo.
Y mi espíritu canta con la tuya.

La bendición de tu amistad
Me da paz durante la tormenta,
Y luz en la oscuridad.

(This poem was written for my two good friends. Translation and explanation posted soon.)

The Pilgrimage - Part 3

This is a continuation of a children's story I started last year. Here is part one, and part two.

Maximus began the long walk out to the edge of the White Thing, for it quite covered the den, and stretched some bit further as well. It was enormous, and it had steep, smooth sides that seemed to be dripping with water. In fact, there were a few goose feathers stuck to it, and good bit of mud.
Maximus was too worried to think very clearly, and he was an ant, after all, but this is what he muttered to himself, very quietly.
“It came from the sky. I saw it. So I can see why it might have water on it, because water comes from the sky. And of course, I can see why it might have a goose feather or two, because geese often come from the sky as well...but how did that mud get up into the sky?”
Thinking about this curiosity helped Maximus get out to the edge when he might otherwise have been too frightened because, as everyone knows, it's hard to walk when you're very scared, but it's hard to be scared when you're very curious.
Soon, Maximus reached the edge of the umbrella, but of course he didn't know that. It was tipped over on its side, so that for the last inch or two it was almost touching his antennae, and he almost forgot to be curious, and he almost forgot his name was Maximus. But a fellow named Maximus cannot run from some big White Thing, however gigantic and curious it might be, so he marched the last little bit with every ounce of courage he could muster. (Ounces seem much bigger to the little ants than they do to us, you know.)
So, this was the White Thing. It looked quite crazy all tilted up like it was, very undignified. (The umbrella, when he realized he was being observed, was a little bit embarrassed, so he stuck his stick up into the air in an especially proud and haughty manner. Sometimes when we are embarrassed we pretend that we don't care at all, you know, which is silly, but so it goes.) Maximus saw that the White Thing was round, and had metal bones to give it shape, and had one big, strong leg with a curvy foot that it seemed to be using to point.
At first, our little ant friend could not think of anything at all, for he was still very frightened, but soon his natural cleverness began to return. Maximus really was very clever, he just hadn't used his cleverness much before because he was too worried about looking strong and important. His cleverness whispered to him and said, “It looks like it is pointing. What is it pointing too?”
And Maximus, who didn't realize that he was still talking to himself, said, “I don't know. I can't see beyond all this grass and the edge of this big water.”
He walked to the part of the White Thing that was lying flat on the ground, and he touched it...carefully...carefully...with just the tiniest tip of his tiny antennae. It didn't move. It didn't really feel very scary. It felt soft and smooth, like the world's strongest flower petal. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this must be exactly what it was - a flower!
Well, flowers are simply not scary at all, are they? No one is really scared of flowers. We might be scared of the bees that visit them, and we might be scared of all the sneezing we will do when they start blooming, but no one could really be scared of flowers. Why, you pick them for your Mommy when she is sad, don't you, and you would never do that if they were scary?”
Maximus suddenly felt a surge of boldness, because there is nothing that will give you courage like discovering that there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place. Without another thought, he placed his little foot upon the Flower, and the other five feet just naturally followed, because they didn't want to be left behind. He walked along the smooth white petals, and then he found that the big metal bones were even better for walking. Soon he reached the thing which he had foolishly called a leg. Anyone could see that it was just a stem – a huge stem that had been broken off and curled over at the tip from lack of water. Maximus thought how silly he had been to be afraid, and he was very glad that no one had been there to watch him.
He began to climb the stem, because ants are not scared of climbing straight up the sides of things. He climbed all the way to the very top of its stem curl, and he shaded his eyes with his two front legs, and looked out in the direction that the flower was pointing. He strained his eyes to see as far as he could see, and he looked especially heroic, and he wished, now, that there was someone to see him.