We Trot in Circles

We trot in circles.
It’s cold outside, and the air illuminates my breath.
We carefully hiked up and down an icy slope.
The sun is setting and below our steep are my mountains, hovering over a rural bitten valley.
This portrait brushed by sunlight represent the vast contents of my home.
slowly my mind is rippled with memories.
I’m desperate to recall the many faded pieces to my childhood carved into the patterns of fields and woods.
What’s left are fragments of cherished times, places, and people.
I gaze across the beauty, captivated by my distinct past.
I was mended and spared by these therapeutic peaks and roaming acres.
These rises and runs represent a key factor in my appreciation of what is wholesome, pure, and free.
Here, I developed a taste for what is simple and priceless, and a rep for getting my hands dirty.
And suddenly the rekindling of all these timeless happening put a new meaning to my day.

– I will always crave and be thankful for the building blocks that made me
and the Creator who foretells my path and guides my ways…


My Capital Confusion

My family and I were snuggled tightly inside a friend’s pick-up truck. I was seated between my mother and this particular family friend, whom we where traveling hours away to help move.Throughout our road trip, they had been chatting away on a great many topics. During so,I sat patiently and listened, occasionally chiming in, yet unraveled I had not blossomed into any sort of center of attention.Then my chance arose as Mimi addressed my name. “Taylor,What is the capital of Maryland?” I had proudly learned and memorized every state and its capital previously in my studies and I blurted a response with innate sureness, “Boston”. I knew I was wrong instantly and I was desperate to get it right. “Well,” I said,” there’s Baltimore, Massachusetts …..” I tried again and again ,jinxed by laughter and embarrassment and doomed to another faulty answer. Meanwhile my brothers, who moments ago sat on the verge of irritation and discomfort smushed in the back seat, had become lively and vocal. My childish self was fuming beyond a blush, and by the time I retrieved the correct answer the entire car was enthusiastic with friendly yet humiliating laughter. I was absorbing my share of humble pie like a dried sponge suddenly quenched by some sum of water.

A Faulty Character

I fear the weaknesses of a faulty character, oblivious to ignorance, chastised with envy, preoccupied by doubt, held up by the scares of tragedy, and settling for all things materialistically great and self-important. I cringe to the spears of denial and their meaningless rant. I desperately attempt to rid my self of the fears of a faulty character, so complex and innate to our human nature. I feel designed for a greater endeavor then the loathing of a empty life of self-indulgences.