Musings on the Nature of Hope

That was probably the most disappointing moment of my life, right there. I stood up, and for some reason (I would attribute it to the single Twisted Pink Lemonade I had, but I'm not THAT much of a lightweight), the floor looked further away, and I swore I could see the tops of the moldings more easily. I was wondering how this could be, when the thought crossed my mind. Maybe...just maybe...I had grown.

I know, in retrospect, it was quite ridiculous, but at the time, my hopes overruled my sensibilities. I went to get my brother, even refusing to bend down and pet my cat on the way, lest I somehow lose my newly-gained height by lowering myself closer to the floor.

I gave him the ruler and stood against our old markings on the wall, holding my breath in anticipation. Alas, I still stood just as tall as I did on April 13th, 2005.

In my heart, I knew I hadn't really grown, but hope is a curious thing. It can make us believe in the impossible. It leads men to madness, but can also lead the downtrodden to victory.

It is truly amazing.

Red and Gold (poem)

I suppose, considering it's October 1st, I'll admit that it's finally Autumn.  So, in honor of this, I'm posting this poem I wrote in 2007 about Fall colors.  Enjoy. :)

Red and Gold

Fire burns the trees tonight,

fueled by the golden ball of the West.

The flames lick the branches

like children do candy,

eager to find the sweetest spot.

Like arms, they embrace,

reaching higher and higher,

as if to join their brothers in the sky,

changing in hue as they ascend.

Then, piece by piece,

the crinkled ashes drift to the ground,

once they have spent the juices

of the tree.

And what is left is barren,

but still graceful.

A twining, twisting work of ages,

left to rest from growth

until the Spring.