What Is He Thinking?

What is he thinking?
What's on his mind?
These questions I've pondered
Quite a few times.

What is he feeling?
Is he happy or sad?
What has he been through?
What experiences has he had?

Where does he come from?
Where will he go?
Then the question hits me
Why do I want to know?

I never wondered before
Why now of all times?
Why is he suddenly
Present in my mind?

Why do I ponder
On what lies within?
Why do things constantly
Remind me of him?

Why is it so easy to
Look in his direction?
Why do I suddenly
Look for his attention?

I don't have any answers
At least not today
So why doesn't that bother me?
Why is that OK?

Maybe it's 'cause I'm older
Old enough to realize,
Things happen as they're meant to
I can take my time to answer, "why?"

Looking Ahead..

You can't know where you're going till you know where you've been..

Sound familiar? I'm sure it does. It's a very common proverb. I had always thought of it in the context of knowing one's history as a people. I never thought of it in a personal way.

Lately I've been happy with my life. I have nothing to complain about other than my habitual lack of sleep. Even that though, is a good thing. It means I have things to do again. I'm productive (in theory anyway). So I am content. I'm satisfied. And I haven't written. Why not? Because all my best writing to this point has come from a tortured mind. When I'm frustrated poetry flows.. when I'm sad, when I'm angry, when I'm agonizing over an event, those are my times of brilliance. So what happens when I'm satisfied? I don't know.

Satisfaction is still relatively new to me, at least the type of complete satisfaction I'm experiencing now. So how will I fix it? I've been reading.. reading the things I wrote in my past. I've found a spark in my reading. I can feel my passion being rekindled. It isn't quite to the point where I'm on the verge of a masterpiece but I can feel that all too familiar flame being re-lit in my soul. And I'm happy.

Why am I sharing this? I don't really know. I think I just needed to get my thoughts flowing. That, and I just read a friend's poem and feel inspired to share my own thoughts. Anyway.. that's all for now.

-Raxxie

Hmm...

I just realized something...

Every time I act out of fear (inactivity counts as action as well) I hurt someone. I either hurt myself, or someone else or both.

So what's my obvious conclusion? No more fear! I will use all that's in me to act as my heart tells me. I won't let fear dictate my actions! This I state before all who read this and before God (with His help of course).

-Raxxie

And I Prayed.. The Story of Frank

Today I bought a fish. I had been saying for a few weeks that I wanted one and today I was finally able to get one. I didn't expect much "attachment" to this creature because, after all, I equate fish with food. But after the salesperson fought to catch the little guy and put him in a bag for me I looked at him. He was mine. I named him. And just like that, I loved him. Frank Fishington, Frank the fish.

I was so excited. I had all the things for his new home ready. I rinsed out his bowl. I cleaned the little fake plants. I even cleaned the gravel I was going to put on the bottom. I set the water and put the tank conditioner in. All that was left was to put Frank in his new home. As far as I knew, there were two ways to do it. I could either pour him in, or scoop him in with a net. Being afraid to have him out of water at all, I opted to pour him in. Much to my dismay, something was wrong.

I watched him swim and he was only using his front fins.. not his tail. It looked awful to see him struggle to move. I kid you not, I was sad. My little Frank, whom I loved was struggling. Had I done something? Lo and behold, the internet told me that I poured where I should have scooped! No! What had I done?? Only moments before, little Frank was happy and healthy and unhurt but then in ignorance I hurt his little tail. Injuries like that can kill a fish. If he can't get to the surface for food he could die.

I'd only known him a few hours but I already couldn't bear the thought of him dying at my hand, so I prayed. I told God how small a thing it must be to ask for the life of a fish but He knew what that little life meant to me. I asked that he be spared. I ran around frantically trying to find a way to help him and asking people for advice. As I ran around and Frank was left alone I can only imagine him experimenting with his injury... trying to "walk it off" as it were. By the time I came back his tail was no longer droopy and he was indeed using it to swim! He got stronger with each passing minute. He ate the food I'd put in his bowl. I was overjoyed.

What's my point? Simple. What on earth could make me care so much for a fish? Love. Probably a weird type of love, but love nonetheless. I have such a capacity for love that the thought of him dying, especially because I'd hurt him was terrible. I used to limit myself when it came to love. I'd bottle it up and only give it to some, in small doses. But if I have so much love in my heart that it spills out on Frank, one who cannot love me, why am I holding back? Why don't I share my love with everyone? The purpose of love is to be given. So here I am, offering my love to any who will accept it. Yep, she must be crazy. Think about it though... I'm not talking about romantic love necessarily.. I just mean love in general. Why are we so selective of who we give it to? Why do we feel that some people aren't worthy? God is love stupid. And there is NO ONE who is worthy of God, therefore no one is worthy of love. But it is given anyway. So again I say it. I offer my love.. the love God commissions me to share with everyone.

Just as I love Frank though I know he can never love me, so do I love everyone... by God's grace and with his help. Thanks for reading. God bless.

Ps... I REALLY hope Frank Fishington (that's his whole name) doesn't die now o_O.