Lit And On Fire

We are starting a new segment on this blog called 'PROMPTED', which will be a series of posts containing two blog entries written by Mike and Jucy based on writing springboards taken from a book of daily writing prompts. This is their first attempt based on the following writing idea: "A star falls from the sky and lands on a family's backyard. Only, it isn't a star... but a friendly alien." - - - - - S T A R - - - - - ( by Jucy ) One summer night in Shannon A streak of light shot through the sky A star dropped from the heavens And there on our backyard died The wooden shed was in ruins As the celestial body burned I was busy dousing the fire But my father looked unconcerned “Dad, should we call the fire department?” “No, the rain will soon pour” “But the wind is getting stronger! “Don’t worry it’s under control” The tongues of flames subsided Ashes scattered in the air The shed a blackened charcoal I said a little prayer Mother stood by the greenhouse With a

tones of grief, epitome of shame half-wrought notes : apology or blame throw the stone — regret — into the deep on the edge, the onset very steep share the baggage, every single weight but unload and shear before too late silent burden hears a lot and more scurrying like hares upon the floor steal the thunder and obscure the light slip them tales of fake and frigid might wipe the board clean; write it on a slate stale or recent; do not hesitate smile , go on like everything’s afloat keep it neat; there’s slime under the moat don’t be dour, sour from these limes   miles to go; there will be sleeping time

Feel free to judge me Go on, expose your heart Point your righteous finger If you really want to start Make your estimations Conjecture all you like In the end, it’s not my vocals Blaring on the mic Feel free to judge me You’re perfect, I presume Your character’s in order Is what I would assume Or maybe check the mirror For specks inside your eye Don’t worry ‘bout my vision I take care of my sight Feel free to judge me But keep it to yourself If I do not solicit Then I don’t need your help Respect is quite essential Like distancing and masks If I need your wisdom I would surely ask Feel free to judge me Or better yet, judge your own Look at your own demeanor And if at all you’ve grown I’m not your goodwill project Can’t read my heart and mind You do not know my story So don’t be rude; be kind Feel free to judge me I’m beloved by my Lord He will rightly defend me Be careful with your sword Do not do unto others What’s not been done to you

Don’t think about it too much Just write your thoughts on the page as they come You know they’ve been piled up, scattered all over, and cooped up in your brain Let them out; let your mind breathe; give your thoughts more space Acknowledge everything that has been and release them Give your emotions exposure to the light of day Who knows what might come your way once you do You’ve thought about how much you’ve missed going to movies With friends like Archie, Mike, or one of the men you’ve mentored You’ve pondered about life perhaps not ever going back to what it used to be Certain that you do not want to revert to some of the old things Unsure of letting the others go You’ve thought about the utmost importance of times of solitude Especially when spent in the presence of God You’ve realized even more how valuable face-to-face interactions with people are The priceless moments you’ve invested into the lives of others way before all this happened And the future tim

This is a loose English translation of the beautiful poem written by Juan Miguel Severo which he penned (mostly) in Tagalog. You can read his original work here: Pipiliin Kita . ----- I Choose You, Still Love is not blind. The eyes of true love can see through anything and clearer than anyone; so I thank you, thank you for truly seeing and fully knowing me - the good, the bad, and everything in between - and loving me anyway. I see you too - your beauty and all your mess - and I hope that you know I love you just as much. As those who have loved and lost come to mind, I've come to grips with the truth that it is stupid and foolhardy to demand perfection from love, from myself, or from anyone. By and by, I've realized that everyone is flawed and loves imperfectly. The question I needed to answer was not whether I could find someone ideal and faultless but whether I could find that one person whose warts, wrinkles, and flaws I could see and yet ch