Sunday, March 28, 2010

Around this time last year,

Sara and I were playing in the Pacific's waves near

Cabo on the Baja Peninsula.

This is where we would like to be now.


Is this too much to wish for?

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Discovery (song lyrics)

The thunder rolls into the desert like a wolf on the chase of a lone girl.

Kicking up sand and kicking dust, making her way to Omaha.

Blistered toes and bleeding knees.

Stitch in her side, can’t breath.

Lucky luck fell into me.

Lucky love fell into me.

Rain falls from the charcoal clouds, feeding the thirst of our young girl.

Lay your lay me down to sleep, you’ve gone so hard so rest your feet..

Ease your eyes.

Dream of me at your side.

With the moon comes the tide.

Just as the cactus blooms, so we will too.

Just as the cactus blooms, so we will too.


Rescue me from my demons, these are things a bottle can’t do.

You don’t know it yet, but I knew you before we met.

Mississippi running girl.

Doing that Franklin twirl.

The West Bank on Riverside.

The West Bank on Riverside.

Just as the cactus blooms, so we will too.

Just as the cactus blooms, so we will too.


Discover me, my discovery.

Discover me, my discovery.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Loohcs Lacidem [] Medical School

With the pedal always to the floorboard you get to do so many things.
Opportunities will pass you by, but stagnation is a foreign concept.
We cover so much ground watching the scenery flicker away, like a time-lapse video of the seasons changing or the rain forrest jumping at unclaimed sunlight.
Responsibility is thrust on our shoulders, barely giving maturity a chance to catch up.
Before we can take that deep breath to let our thoughts and reflections sink into the dry soil, we are forced to decide which path to take.
Mr. Frost chose the road less taken. A scary concept, indeed.
Maybe it isn't so much which road is traveled less, but which road fits the soles of our feet best.
So as the landscape flies by, and we sift through our best options, we need to listen to our aching toes and ask, which path feels the best?
Then all that is left is to steer the car and watch the slideshow.

Frozen Morning

The lake is frozen

The snow, a blue reflection of the sky

Split by the forested horizon

A golden path bumps across the lake’s surface

Leading to the waking sun

I would like to think I see the same beauty

From this house that I would from a yurt or a teepee

But would it feel the same?

The only thing missing is my wife

She sleeps deep in the warm den

Dare I open the door

Letting light pour in

Flooding her out of the sheets?

I dare.