Life is all about changes. Everywhere you look things change, before your very eyes. No matter what you try to do to stop it. Oh sure, it might seem like for one fleeting moment you've managed to stop it. Turn your back, and it laughs at you and does what it wants.
Mmmm, I love me some Dexter.
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Since September 2008
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
-e.e. cummings
About Me
- Alison
- I'm a full time student and single mother. I literally live day to day and try to enjoy every moment.
Visitors
I'm not deep
I'm not an intellectual
I'm not an artist
I'm not a critic
I'm not a poet
I just have internet access
I'm not an intellectual
I'm not an artist
I'm not a critic
I'm not a poet
I just have internet access
Your Daily Dose of Awesome!
My Past Writing Projects
Witticisms
i am a little church
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
-e.e. cummings
Blog Archive
- September 2011 (1)
- April 2011 (2)
- March 2011 (7)
- February 2011 (6)
- January 2011 (4)
- September 2010 (1)
- August 2010 (1)
- July 2010 (3)
- May 2010 (1)
- April 2010 (6)
- March 2010 (7)
- February 2010 (18)
- January 2010 (5)
- December 2009 (22)
- November 2009 (7)
- June 2009 (2)
- May 2009 (2)
- April 2009 (7)
- March 2009 (2)
- December 2008 (6)
- November 2008 (7)
- October 2008 (6)
- September 2008 (8)
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