||[Aug. 24th, 2005|11:26 am]
hehe, i just ran across this on my compy, and i don't believe i ever posted it anywhere... so i thought i would here, just for kicks ;)
i was up really late one night last year, writing an essay on Celtic Christianity... which, added to the random silliness that arises in the wee hours of the morning, spawned
I sit me down to write this piece
O God of language and word and sound
Yet nothing comes up in my mind.
The words fall stillborn from my muttering lips,
Half-spelled and forgotten on virtual paper.
Forgive me, for I have probably sinned,
Putting this off till the last minute
As I always do.
I'm just stupid like that.
It is late and growing early.
The moonlight rises through the breeze-tossed trees
Into the sable starlit sky.
O God of the heavens,
I will be here all night!
Inspire my words with the tongue of Columba,
The charisma of Paul
The lyric hymns of the shepherd-boy.
Inspire my words with the whispers of the wind
The song of the sea
The satiric call of the mockingbird.
Inspire my words with the rhythm of the heart
The warmth of the hearth
The diplomacy of the outstretched hand.
Inspire me to write something
Other than random Saxon terms for excrement
That will be erased
To appear again
In the futile search for words.