Okay, so this is my first post on this blog. I’m really excited about this, guys! I have some really big and exciting ideas for this blog, and I hope that you’ll agree and join me for the journey. If you haven’t read my other blog, it is linked here. That blog, however, is mostly reserved for teaching English posts. I’m currently an English teacher in Turkey, and I’m sure that some of those adventures will wander on over to this website and try to make themselves comfortable on this page, but if you’re at all interested in methodologies or techniques, head on over and check out my other website.
This site however . . . this will be a bit more . . . something for me. I love teaching English, but here I want to share my thoughts and adventures and stories and writings and ramblings and pictures. I want this to be a conglomeration of life that celebrates everything there is to celebrate and weeps over what hurts. I want to share some awesome endeavors with you all, and invite you to be a part of the journey. But, in the end, I want everything here to glorify my maker. I’m a follower of Jesus Christ, and I will not pretend not to be. Please stick around for at least a few posts . . . I really do have some exciting things to share with the world, and I want you to be the first to know. So, click on the subscribe button, follow me on twitter, and pay attention for some things to come that I think you’ll enjoy.
Now, I’ve read a poem today, and I am hoping to fill these pages with writings and ramblings of my own, but no writer is a good writer if they are not avidly reading and following other authors. So, here is a poem that I read today – go ahead . . . read it twice. It’s good. And then expect to hear more about this book later.
The Hart of Manhattan:
-from Island of the World by Michael O’Brien
I am walking by night from the mountains of my home
lordly beneath this crown, though no man knows its weight,
white-antlered as if I am a mountain crested with two oaks,
the foothills green and gold by the sea of blood
part to let me pass, and when I ask if I am ever to return
they bow in silence
–no eyes see my approach.
Pausing upon a bridge made by human hand,
spanning land and sea and river and sky, I ponder
what they have made,
then knowing my task I leap forward onto the island
–none see my arrival.
I have brought the mountains into the city;
it is my gift to you; and the sky which is my breath,
and the sea as well, for all oceans are in my eyes,
and all this I bring to you,
for all has come from me
–none see me pass between the towers.
I lift my head and sound the bugle call
to rouse the city from its sleep, but the city awakens into deeper sleep
and dreams itself awake when I am among them.
Why is it so, this reversal of intent?
Why, though I do them no harm, do they fear me?
–none know who I am.
Who shot me, who made me fly on panicked feet?
Leaping, leaping, tossing my head before I fall to the pavement
and my crown rolls along the streets
as you gather round to see a marvel brought down.
Who has down this? Who?
Speak! The arrow quivering in my chest with the last pulse-beats
does not condemn you, nor do I condemn you, my slayer,
but you should know me, for I was born for this.
If my blood is needed to show you to yourself,
to refresh you or awake you now, I will give it.
Here it is, take it.
But understand as you drink that even the mighty
strain their eyes for a final glimpse of stars,
longing to rest like children in their mother’s embrace.