Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Is it a gift?



I have been asked an intriguing question, recently. For the second time. It was first about writing poems. Do you think your poem writing is a gift? [this was the first time] No. It's a breathing exercise for my hands. ...I hope that when others read them... it may help them to feel: less alone, not as different than everyone else is -or strange. That, it may somehow give words or a voice to thoughts they are trying to either say, or perhaps understand in themselves. I hope sometimes it'll make them laugh, & for a brief moment forget the lousy day they just had. I guess I also hope that some can be a thank you/love note to God. [hopefully that doesn't sound too weird]

That was my answer... then I was asked recently the same question about photos.
Do you think your photography is a gift? No. not really. I don't remember what all I said... but one phrase stuck with me & I cannot get it out of my head to save my life. [truthfully I like it, & cannot believe I said it] My answer:
If a picture is worth a thousand words... then each photo is a thousand word thank you note to God, thanking Him for whatever is in the picture. Thanking Him for His creativeness. Thanking Him for sharing it with me.

So... are these things gifts? I don't really need to answer that do I. It's hard to see them as gifts to be given. I see them as gifts to be received. I'm glad that I have them. I'm glad for what they do to/for me. Though, sometimes, I'm glad no one I know is around when I use them. I feel like a kid who got to sneak some cookies while no one was looking. Like my second field trip to the golf course, I couldn't stop laughing & smiling. It just felt good. I felt like a 5 year old.

I promised a poem. This one is recent. I am going through my stuff [read junk] & I feel like I'm going through my life at the same time...

Go Through Me

Please
Go through me
Help me to step away
Further & further away
From stupid distractions
Clean out the cobwebs of my soul
Open all the doors,
Break all the seals of neglect
go through every single room
I want to be whole
fill in the holes in me, please
throw out
what I shouldn't keep
Be the foundation of this structure
...& the architect
Use Your plans to construct
It as You dreamed it to be.
I know I'll like it
Because You are my favorite artist.

3 comments:

nAncY said...

interesting thoughts, especially since i am starting to read "the gift" with a few others at high calling blogs.

cindyhan111 said...

I've enjoyed 'The Gift", but more so enjoyed your honest reflections. The poem is moving as well as the pictures.

The Strength of Joy said...

Neat stuff, Brian. I love to come here to be with you for a bit. Pics are super, too. Thanks for sharing.