Thursday, May 21, 2009


i was going to write something witty and and a bit silly.  i was planning on writing about love and heart break.  i was planning on writing about age.  but now i just sit and and type for no reason really what so ever.  my hope is that something comes out of it, but from the looks of it, nothing is going to happen.  so i sit.  i sit and think of my weekend, pondering about family that we have not hugged for a while, thinking of possible futures that are all in the hands of the one who brought this weekend together.  but again, I have nothing.  

i wanted to write about music, how a band named after such a tough city can sweep me off my feet at a mere touch of the ivorys, or how the voices of jazz singers bring relaxation to the bones tired from the day.  

nothing.  nothing is coming to mind.  family, music, and nothing but these pitiful few words.  maybe it is because my scribble is nothing in comparison to words so beautiful they could only have been inspired by the one who brings the weekends and days and clouds and sun and smiles and tears.  i read this today: 

Wisdom has built her house
she has carved out its seen pillars
she has prepared her meat
she has prepared her wine
she also has arranged her table
she has sent out her female servants
she calls out on the highest places of the city
whoever is naive, let him turn in here
she says to those who lack understanding
come eat some of my food
and drink some of the wine I have mixed
abandon your foolish ways so that you may live
and proceed in the way of understanding.