The Blues

I'm a pebbled lyric textured in smoke,
if only I drank grace more often, I'd be smoother,
I'd have a shine that gave the moon its proper reflection.

I float from the lips of someone troubled and perplexed by the plate they were served.
What else did they expect? Something better than the blues?

I'm many different shades of melancholy,
no one knows what kind yet everyone understands.
Nighttime is my best time.
It's when it is ok to be naked.

When I'm left hanging in the air,
someone grabs ahold of me and invites into their memories.
I come and sit with them there, be with them there.

I sound lonesome but I have many friends,
they inhale pieces of pebbled feelings that I have to offer.
It rounds them out.
Someone's always singing the blues.

Realize

The stroke, the strike, the depth and ribbons of textured conversation.
Freshness, I want to be married. Together, we dive head first and swirl in a never ending waltz.

I want us to say something, have a meaningful message, one that implodes with conviction and explodes with redemption and discovery.

Yes, we go that deep,
We only go that deep here.
It starts in the deep and swells as a song
where you can only close your eyes to truly realize. 

Gate

"When I am in the consciousness of God,
those whom I love have a mystic value.
They shine, as if a light were glowing in them.
Even those who frown on me and love me not seem part
of a great scheme of good.
(Or else they seem like stray bumble bees buzzing at a window, headed the wrong way, yet seeking light).

So it is when my soul steps through the postern gate into the presence of God.
Big things become small and small things become great.
The near becomes far and the future is near.
The lowly and despised is shot through with glory,
and most of human power and greatness seem as full of infernal iniquities
as a carcass is full of maggots.

God is the substance of all revolutions;
When I am in him; I am in the Kingdom of God and the Fatherland of my Soul.
Is it strange that I love God?

-Walter Raushenbush, The Little Gate to God

Nothing at all

It's like staring at a gift right in front of my eyes and not being able to feel joy. I don't like what I see, I don't like what is happening.

What is happening?

I abhor this part of me and that's the scariest thing I've ever admitted.
How do I get rid of this terrible monster that placed its tentacles in every inch, in every part of my being?

Remove it fast!

Will there be anything left? Any good? Change? Newness? An entirely different world? I'm frightened but I'd rather feel frightened than nothing at all.

Finally feels like home

Coming home to a new home.

I always carry stuff. Lots of stuff. Bags, purses, water bottles, books, journals, first aid kit. You name it. The other day I was driving with one of my friends and as we got out of the car. I started to gather all my things.

"I carry way too much don't I?" I asked.
"Yes you do." she replied.
"I think this might be metaphorical." I continued.
"You think? Well, I'm helping you lighten your load."

I was amazed, touched and blessed. God provides. We aren't supposed to go through this life alone.

Peace,
Casie

Frazzled

After a very frazzled week, I am now set to record some music with a friend. We are collaborating on a short film. I must admit, I felt very anxious for the project. I like to have my ducks in row and with this project and many that I've been part of lately, I am met with many unexpected variables.

It's been exciting and I'm learning that creative drive thrives on unexpected moments. It's time when those parts of your brain and heart have a chance to play. I've forgotten that. I've underestimated that. I've doubted that and it's time I stop that. As I type this, I almost sound like a crazy person as if there are multiple beings in my head! ha! Crazy or not, it's creativity for me and I feel better because of it.

Peace,
C

Break ups

And everyone they have a heart,
and when they break and fall apart
and need somebody's helping hand.

I used to say just let 'em fall,
It wouldn't bother me at all
I couldn't help them, now I can. 

-Avett Brothers, 'Shame'