Land of Unheard Thank-You's

To the Guardian of the Land of Unheard Thank-You's:

As you know, your land as of late has been expanding quite rapidly. I'm afraid this is of my doing. You see there is one who I have not thanked in quite awhile. I'm concerned that these errant thank-you's are becoming a nuisance to you. So I hereby ask you to release the following thank-you's from their anonymous anguish.

Thank you for teaching me that it's not the sword that cuts, but the intent. Thank you for fish tacos. Thank you for Zen. Thank you for Italian Surfers. Thank you for dream quests. Thank you for magic castles. Thank you for 'Crash.' Thank you for volcano sauce. Thank you for go. Thank you for ages of mythology. Thank you for the Crowells. Thank you for backyard dirt talks. Thank you for Owen. Thank you for being a light in a dark world.

I greatly appreciate all of your help. I will try my hardest to not let too much time pass before my next letter.





P.S.-Thank You

Borrow the Future

"Mother, Father come here fast"
Was heard so often in the past
Bring the band-aids and your kisses
And that's not counting the near misses

And every fall and scrape and tear
Were eased by knowing you were near
You picked me up and held me tight
I squeezed you back with all my might

Maybe one day words could show
With you how much fun it was to grow
"Mix it up and keep 'em guessin'"
Was probably my favorite lesson

So in the future if I fall
May my prayers be heard by all
That if I trip and skin my knee
One more band-aid you'll have for me

Duet in Be Major

This poor little girl
All covered in tears
With her heart all torn open
And facing her fears

This poor little boy
With his face in the dirt
Doing the best that he can
To hide his pain and his hurt

Desperately longing
For someone to share
A laugh and a cry
And a hope and a prayer

Silently waiting
Wishing the other was near
Each one not knowing
That they're already here

Spider Vain

Like a delicate spider, up high on her web
Highly attuned to the world's flow and it's ebb
Every word is so fluid, so graceful and free
For a few moments each night, my worries all flee
I sit and I read, and I think and I ponder
As she flares her cloak of truth she wears on her
If only she knew, perhaps even cared
Then maybe I could stop running scared
But I've braced myself for the conflagration
For tonight her prey...is my imagination

Diuturnal Midnight

Her keys and locks are old and rusted.
Even she doubts if it was blood she shed.
Memories in flight shattered by pain.
Dreams built on truth withered in vain.
Surely she sees the fork in the road,
and will soon feel how heavy the load.
That poor little girl racked by grieving and crying,
will soon find she's not falling...but flying.

The Dance

"Please stay and be one of us." She said.

"I don't know if I'd like it," He replied.

"Besides, without me, you wouldn't exist."

The Void

Let me tell you about the void.

The void is cold.
The void is dark.
It has ice coarsing through it's veins
and the look of death in it's eyes.
And the void eats.
Oh does it eat.
It feeds on fear.
And on doubt, and on insecurity.
The void is always full,
yet always hungry.
With it's lecherous plans
and trecherous hands,
few escape the power of the void.

A Matter of Timing

Something occurred to me the other day that really startled me. It was the instant realization that I was missing a completely vital component to meeting The One (italics added by author). We always think in terms of: I wonder if I'll ever find him/her, but I think we're all forgetting that there is another facet to meeting someone. The concept of timing. Let me give you an example. Meet Sarah. Sarah's a pretty young girl. She's bright, articulate, and she can tie a knot in the stem of a cherry with her tongue...The total package. She loves classical music, writing faithfully in her blog, and working at her job. She's a waitress at a really upscale restaurant where she's working right now. You see, five minutes ago she was just stiffed on a bill which will now be deducted from her days pay. A lamentable happening to be sure. Disheartened by her recent and sudden financial pitfall she fails to notice the man being seated at her section. His name is Steve. Steve is a handsome young man. He's intelligent, in shape, and always puts the toilet seat down...The total package. He also loves classical music, writing faithfully in his blog, and working at his job. He's a bank manager. He decided that tonight would be the night to treat himself to an elegant and expensive dinner. He decided to go out, bachelorhood be damned, and see what the universe had in store for him tonight. Steve is open to infinite possibilities. Sarah is haunted by visions of eviction. She hurries through her service and barely notices the person she's waiting on. The tragedy is that if she stops, even for a moment, she would be looking into the eyes of a man who has just seen the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes on. Steve is so convinced that he has just found something truly special that he writes his phone number on a napkin to leave for the fair maiden. Unfortunately for true love our young heroine angrily grabs the napkin and, failing to see the signs the universe is sending, crumples it up with the other trash.

Here we have two people...normally perfect for each other, a prime victim of timing. Not only do we not know where we will meet that special someone, but we also don't know when. The best defense against unwittingly scaring away something meaningful: Be nice all the time. It's that simple really. Now I know it's impossible to be nice all the time, but so much can be gained by just being more pleasant. Greet people with a smile. Say hi. Go out of your way to do something nice for someone. You never know if you are going to, by accident, flash that gorgeous smile at someone special.