Sit -
you must be tired
of walking,
of losing yourself
this way:
a bronzed rib
of exhaustion
thinned out
against the dark.
Sit -
there are still things
to believe in;
like civilizations
and birthing
and love.
And ancestors
who move
like silent tributaries
from red-earthed villages
with history cradled
in their mythical arms.
But listen,
what if they swell
through the gates
of your glistening city?
Will you walk down
to the water’s edge,
immerse your feet
so you can feel them
dancing underneath?
Mohenjodaro’s brassy girls
with bangled wrists
and cinnabar lips;
turbaned Harappan mothers
standing wide
on terracotta legs;
egg-breasted Artemis –
Inana, Isthar, Cybele, clutching their bounteous hearts
in the unrepentant dark,
crying: ‘Daughter,
where have the granaries
and great baths disappeared?
Won’t you resurrect yourself,
make love to the sky,
reclaim the world.’

"Ode to the Walking Woman," Tishani Doshi (via commovente)

There’s a reason I won’t look you in the eye

It’s the promise I made you with a sigh

The cowardice I feel, becoming more real

This isn’t who I am.

I am so over this.

But every time I see, hear, or smell something

That recreate the feel and the experience of- - you

I am caught off guard, vulnerable

Like a nightmare to an eyelid-less eyeball

It stings, squeezing everything out of my heart.

I will empathize while I can,

Until the memories go stale and diluted

until i find another you and let my dreams go - -

So this is goodbye.





Mom boat!!





(Source: tharlk)

"When shall I be at rest? my trembling heart
Grows weary of its burden, sickening still
With hope deferred. Oh! that it were Your will
To loose my bonds, and take me where You are.

"When shall I be at rest? my eyes grow dim
With straining through the gloom, I scarce can see
The way-marks that my Savior made for me;
Oh, that it were morn, and I were safe with Him.
"When shall I be at rest? Hand over hand
I grasp, and climb an ever steeper hill,
A rougher path. Oh! that it were Your will
My tired feet might tread the Promised Land.

"Oh that I were at rest! a thousand fears
Come thronging over me lest I fail at last.
Oh that I were safe, all toil and danger past,
And Your own hand might wipe away my tears.

"Oh that I were at rest, like some I love,
Whose last fond looks drew half my life away;
Seeming to plead that either they might stay
With me on earth, or I with them above.

"But why these murmurs? You did never shrink
From any toil or weariness for me,
Not even from that last deep agony;
Shall I beneath my little trials sink?

"No, Lord, for whom I am indeed at rest.
One taste of that deep bliss will quite efface
The sternest memories of my earthly race,
Save but to swell the sense of being blest.

"Then lay on me whatever cross I need
To bring me there. I know You can not be
Unkind, unfaithful, or untrue to me!
Shall I not toil for You, when You for me did bleed?”

a Prayer from At the Foot of the Cross - Octavius Winslow





The loop is too fucking perfect.

feeling froggy? then leap

been looking at this for a while

holy shit





The loop is too fucking perfect.

feeling froggy? then leap

been looking at this for a while

holy shit

(Source: jackxiii)

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.

Aristotle (via wordsnquotes)

Was it jealousy?

Crystal Bowersox - Give Me One Reason - American Idol 9

Gimme one reason - Tracy Chapman