golden anniversary

i will love you when this terror leaves my breast
when iron fist of fear looses grip upon my chest
when subtle sign of intimacy no longer causes tears
and panic's heavy presence does not bite my heel

i will love you in the morning when the dark
has lifted from my eyes and from my heart
and phantoms of the dreary past have ceased
when war between my heart and mind have eased--
i will love you, love, when i can breathe

black horse

intelligence is not the ability to understand great facts.
true intelligence is the ability to understand great love.

fear and love are mutually exclusive.

"pray, love, remember."

goodbye my lover

the title has absolutely nothing to do with anything; i just really love that song (james blunt). i cried when i heard it the first time, on the train from milano to firenze. the real title of this post should be I'M NOT WRITING MY PAPER or THE ACADEMIC HONEYMOON IS OVER. for real! Matthew Arnold, "The Buried Life." and my brain is muddled.
also my nephew called me the other day and said "come bahk! come on, jahmay!" oh, bear, would that i could. but i really do need to go write my paper now ... haha ...

happiness is ...

"little boys are a loud noise with dirt on them."

-mark twain

this is what i am missing, being in texas. niko (dominic) is my godson, my nephew, and a joy and delight of my heart. i thank God for my sister's courage and sacrifice. this boy is living proof of the glorious good that far outweighs any wrong and of God's supreme ability to redeem any situation beyond our imagining. he loves butterflies and trucks and planes but most of all his choo-choos; he doesn't like singing unless it's to him; he loves outside, swinging, going down the slide, running around with endless energy, and me. he's a "big strong man" and a "bear" and a cut-up.

happiness is the love of a child, and there is something so special about boys.

silver and gold

nothing can replace old friends, the ones who have known you, have seen you at your worst, and stick anyway. the ones who think you are great, even when at the height of silliness or irrationality or just plain insanity. the ones who believe you can do it, who do not misunderstand you or ascribe the worst to you. these are the ones worth working to keep, on whom it is worth spending time and emotion and self.
homesickness is bittersweet: longing, but it means at least there is something worth longing; a place of belonging and comfort and familiarity, and overarching love which makes all things beautiful.

"If you don't get what you need Something's going to break on the inside."
i was listening to this song today, and these lines caught my ear.

it's funny how when you know what you really want, nothing else quite satisfies no matter how much you try to search somewhere else. and, of course, reverting to St. Augustine: "our hearts are restless, Lord, until they rest in Thee." confessions is beautiful. one of my favourite things about being in literature is that you are obligated to buy or at least read all these awesome books.

one of my friends down here, also in the lit program, was telling me how she was driving back from the city and saw a sign saying "NB loop 12 merge ahead." being an academic, she naturally thought, "oh, Nota Bene". gotta love it!