The old woman sews steadily by the dimly lit candle as she rocks slowly back and forth; back and forth. Bent over, intent on her work, she barely looks up as she moves her hand gracefully up, then down, the needle sliding through the fabric and dancing with the thread. The light flickers and casts eerie shadows upon the walls, but the old woman does not seem to notice. She hears no sound, sees no sight other than what lies before her. Creak. Crack. Creak. Crack. The rocking chair keeps the constant rhythm between the floor boards. A coffee mug sits empty upon the wooden table beside her, containing nothing but cold stains. And on and on she continues her work, never losing her focus.

She does not hear me approach.

The cell phone rings.

The neighbor’s radio blares.

The screeching of the brakes as another car whizzes past the window reminds us both of a whirlwind world just outside the door.

“It is not like it used to be, is it?” she softly asks me.

“No Gram…times have changed.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what happens. Change is a part of life”

Silence.

Creak. Crack. Creak. Crack. The rocking chair continues its lullaby.

The clock mounted on the wall continues its chime.

And the car that races by the window continues to call out in a screeching madness.

“It’s not like it used to be, is it.”

Her gray-blue eyes look up for a moment and catch my own. Her firm stare forces me to return it. For a moment, she forgets her sewing, her rocking, the flickering of the light upon the wall….all is forgotten as she stares at me.

Then just as suddenly, her gaze returns to her work and all continues as before.

Somehow, I feel a rush of shame that my simple answer was not a suitable one. Somehow I feel that, by her simple remark, her simple reminder, her simple rebuke…. That somehow I have been sucked into a world of madness, just like the rest of the “precious Youth.” And somehow, I have failed to learn the lesson she tried to teach me.

photography

"When God closes a door..........

....Somewhere He opens a window." --Helen Keller

"Be ye as little children....

...and you shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven...."

seashore ponderings....

Its amazing how fast life goes by when you stop paying attention. When you're 6, all you can dream about is what you're going to be when you grow up. When you're 10, you've decided that to be a ballerina would be the most magical thing in the world. When you're 13, you've reached the mysterious age of a teenager and you've decided that a ballerina is no where near as mature and practical as being a doctor or a missionary. When you're 16 you dream of what life will be like when you're out of high school. When you're out of high school and settled into college, you no longer have time to even dream. And life just keeps rolling by until you come crashing into summer break and realize, you have more time on your hands than you ever remember knowing what to do with. Eventually you stop dreaming of what you're going to be when you grow up and start worrying what will happen now that you are grown up. What decisions are you going to make? Will they be the right decisions and how will they affect your life? One wrong move, will it destroy everything you've worked so hard to get to? And where exactly are you heading anyway?

Maybe its the salt air drifting from the sea that makes one so thoughtful. Maybe its the gentle pounding of the waves as they drift onto shore. Maybe its the soft calling of the seagulls as they coast above in the clear blue sky. There's something altogether calming and soothing when you stand at the edge of the rocky sand and try to look beyond the horizon. Try to see past the thin blue, hazy line where sea greets sky, colors blending together until its hard to distinguish which belongs above and which belongs below. You can't see beyond the horizon no matter how hard you look. You'll only confuse your eyes with images you think appear that really don't exist.

That's the way life is. You can't look too far ahead, you'll only confuse your soul. You'll confuse your mind and everything in between. You can't plan your life. Life happens, whether you're ready for it or not. Life keeps going whether you want it to or not. And the ones that stand still and try to peer beyond the horizon instead of setting sail and facing whatever lies ahead, will be trapped in that thin line of confusion, unable to decide which direction to head. You eventually find yourself at the crossroads, exactly where you've always dreamed to be, yet never realizing it. That 6 year old, or 10 year old or even that high school student---they're not dreaming of WHAT to be when they grow up. They're dreaming of the moment WHEN they grow up. And I'm not quite sure anyone, in reality, is prepared for that.

Tremendous Value of the Mass

At the hour of death the Holy Masses you have heard devoutly will be your greatest consolation. God forgives you all the venial sins which you are determined to avoid. He forgives you all your unknown sins which you never confessed. The power of Satan over you is diminished.
Every Mass will go with you to Judgment and will plead pardon for you. By every Mass you can diminish the temporal punishment due to your sins, more or less, according to your fervor. By devoutly assisting at Holy Mass you render the greatest homage possible to the Sacred Humanity of Our Lord.
Through the Holy Sacrifice, Our Lord Jesus Christ supplies for many of your negligences and omissions.
By piously hearing Holy Mass you afford the Souls in Purgatory the greatest possible relief. One Holy Mass heard during your life will be of more benefit to you than many heard for you after your death. Through Holy Mass you are preserved from many dangers and misfortunes which would otherwise have befallen you. You shorten your Purgatory by every Mass. During the Holy Mass you kneel amid a multitude of holy Angels, who are present at the Adorable Sacrifice with reverential awe. Through Holy Mass you are blessed in your temporal goods and affairs.
When you hear Holy Mass devoutly, offering it to Almighty God in honor of any particular Saint or Angel, thanking God for the favors bestowed on him, etc. you afford that Saint or Angel a new degree of honor, joy and happiness, and draw his special love and protection on yourself.
Every time you assist at Holy Mass, besides other intentions, you should offer it in honor of the Saint of the Day.

-taken from a pamphlet

I Do Nothing

I am there,
Standing in the crowd among the blasphemies and curses

I am there,
Gazing upon His bruised and bleeding body

I am there
Watching silently as they shove, push and tear him apart

And what do I do?
I do nothing.

I follow up the mount to Calvary
I tread the footsteps now marked with blood
I hear the Cross fall yet again
And watch Him crash upon the stones

And what do I do?
I blindly glance away.

His eyes, they turn to find me
Oh such eyes of loving kindness
They are veiled with pain and anguish
Seeking to find at least one faithful soul

Yet where am I?
I am hiding.

They stretch his sacred hands upon the wood
Pulling, yanking; wrenching them to fit the holes
The nails are pierced through flesh and bone
Yet no cry is uttered from his lips

And what do I say?
I stare in silence.

He hangs half naked for all to see
He endures their spits, their sneers and all their mockeries
They throw rocks that deepen his wounds
And cast lots for his sacred garments

And what do I do?
I do nothing.

For who am I but one of them
I have done nothing to stop them
And sometimes…many times;
I have even joined them.

I have often thought to myself
Oh if I had only been there with Him
I would have stopped the stones from being thrown
I would have shut the mouths of such blasphemers
I would have comforted Him while He carried my burden
And I would have certainly joined him upon the Cross.

But I was there…

I’m still there…

And I’ve done nothing.

JP '05

...freedom is what you make of it...

Finishing all your finals = fReEdOm...

Having a 3 day weekend after finishing your finals = fReEdOm...

Finding out you get 3 extra days off not including your already 3 day weekend after finals = fReEdOm...


FREEDOM is a beautiful thing. ;)

on this and that

the railroad
-jp

He’s sitting by the railroad
Swinging his feet to and fro
Watching as the clouds fly by
Who knows where he’ll go…

And yes, he’s walked a long way
No, he’s got no home
Besides the stars and sky above

Who knows where he’ll roam…

Oh how good the sunshine feels
Beating on his back
Warming heart and soul within
There’s nothing that he lacks

Is he lonely on his own
Riding railroads past the sky
Does he regret this path of life
Oh how you wonder why

He is only a mere human
Living life the only way he knows
He does not dream for things beyond
Nor dwells on long ago.

The rumble of the train car
Comes thundering within
Mindless people, they all board
And the journey will begin

His story is not uncommon
For he is no single man
He’ll ride upon this railroad
Losing sight where it began.

Its not enough just to stand on the sideline and hope life will put on the brakes to pick you up. And too many people are mesmorized as they stare at the passing train, mindless and empty souled, having no real purpose or direction. I was riding a subway train in Boston a few years back when I wrote this poem and though I know it doesn't capture the whole idea I was trying to portray, nevertheless, its an interesting thought to consider. How many times do you watch people blindly walking around, dazed and in a lost stupor. They look at you as your paths cross, but they don't see you. They're living life trying to reach the top, the highest step on the ladder of success and they're trying to climb quickly. But the higher they climb, the more blind they become. The higher they climb the more altitude seeps into their brains and causes them to forget the purpose they originally started out with. Now they're at the highest step...they're everything they wanted to be and more. Now what? There's no step to climb to, and they're still not satisfied. So what does it take for these people to realize that life is not meant to be the plastic, fake, fragile gingerbread house they've made it into? The house that will collapse the minute you take away all their material and secular dreams.

And then there's Christmas, the season of hope, peace and joy. The season to love one another and share glad tidings. The season everyone all of a sudden is feeling generous and the need to be charitable. That's wonderful...so society sets out to make the world a better place at Christmas. What about the rest of the year? Christmas Day hasn't even struck midnight before everyone has shed their "Secret Santa" suits, hanging it in the dark, dusty closet until next Christmas when its time to play "Mr.Charity" again. How sad is that. How sad that our world has become such a whirlwind of greed that we can only practice the virtue of charity when the TV and radio remind us through their jingle commercials and pop songs that its the "season for giving" once again. And its even sadder that Catholics can be just as negligent; the ones who should be setting the ultimate example because not only do they receive the grace to do so from Holy Mother Church, but because they possess the only thing worth living for: Truth. Its a sad world we live in because we have allowed ourselves to lose sight of who we are and where we came from.

justification for a college student

The stack of History notes glares at me from the red folder strategically placed beside me. The even print seems to leap from the page, eager to tell the story of the Greek tyrants and the Persian Wars mixed with Solan's Constitution and the laws of Draco. And yet as I finger through the pages, one after another after another after another, my heart sinks as I realize there is more than 20 pages to memorize and the material of Greek History certainly does not hold any captivating magic. I decide there is still time to go over the boat load of History notes before my return back to school and defiantly tune out the voice of the history Professor to tune in the soft drawl of the Latin Professor by grabbing my textbook. Carelessly paging through the notes, my desire to study Latin (which in actuality never existed in the first place) slowly disappears further still when I realize there is over 38 days to review and memorize. Though I dreamed of reaching the studious level of being able to know them so well that I would be able to recite them front and back even in my sleep, I suddenly no longer possess the motivation and drive of being that studious. So that subject is cast aside until further notice. Gazing upon the dimly lit kitchen table, I grunt heavily when I realize the subject staring me in the face is the most dreaded of all: Algebra. Ha! Not a chance. And without further adieu, that subject quickly joins the rest of the "neglected souls." Apologetics? Nah--too much reading for one night. What about Logic? or English? Eehh...maybe tomorrow night. There's always Sacred Scripture notes I should recopy, but then again, I should get the subjects I've already started over and done with before I think about starting a new one. But I've already decided that I do not possess the proper disposition to adequately study for History, Latin, Algebra, Apologetics, Logic or English tonight--I guess Sacred Scripture can be cast aside for the moment as well. So! What does that leave me with? Absolutely nothing. My conscience can now rest guiltlessly...for I am not wasting time writing this entry in my blog instead of studying.

......if only life were that easy.

selections

Evanescent

Oh little child, you forlorn being
Why do you hide there trembling in fear?
Havet hey stolen all your hope away
And left you crying carelessly here?

Weak diminutive soul, all alone
Your only consoling friend Death may be
And your desolate voice wails in the distance
"Will he ever come to play with me?"

You pick a crushed flower as the petals fall
A mark of the past, present and future no more
For winter has come and frozen our faces
And cast our eyes blind to a prophesied war.

Oh little child, you captured mind
Such sorrowful eyes weep comprehending
In the silent night your voice will be heard
"I am your soul on which your fate is depending."

-JP '05


Ocean Tide

Standing alone
In a field of blue and white
A moving force of strength
Yet fury
A timeless reminder of what forever is.

The thunder rolls
Along a shore of even rock
Crashing tides and white tipped plains
Live always
A single allowance of future coming.

Lonely seagulls
They cannont stop their cries
For they know all of nothing
Except the sea
A home of invaluable worth.

-jp '05











Roses in the Rain

Silent drops of rain appear
Like whispers all around
Falling down from heaven here
Washing clear the ground

Petals hang so heavily
Drooping from its power
Fighting to stand straight again
Trying for those who cower.

Whipped by wind and torn by scourge
Crowned in the endless storm
Remembered by its beauty
And fragrance love can form.





jp 'o5

beginning again

Being home on break gives a college student a chance to catch up on sleep, renew their ambitions and stir up another round of motivation for the coming semester. Not only that, but it's the ideal time for the mind to be easily persuaded into...starting another blog. Sometimes though, a fresh start is exactly what you need; a new cyber space to organize the scattered words floating inside that in reality have no purpose to them, except to escape the cluttered brain of a young woman. Between staying ahead of my classes and at the same time maintaining some form of sanity, I don't exactly have all the time in the world to even think about keeping another blog. But for me at least, it helps to form my many scrambled thoughts into words and let them rest on paper. It is my intention that this blog be used for more than just the schedule approach of "I did such and such and then saw so and so and heard the what and why about why and what." With a little bit of luck, I'll even be able to include some level of intelligence....hopefully.

I love to write and words seem to come easier for me when I'm writing them or typing them rather than trying to speak them. In a way, my hands know what to say before my voice does. I'm inspired by writers and authors, and it is my dream that one day, my words will be valued enough to make it to a published form, even just once. They say its not enough just to dream your dreams; you have to live them. Maybe that's true...after all, what would the sense be in bottling up and packaging away your talent when you possessed the ability to do some good with it. Either way, I've decided to give it another shot and see what happens. Feedback is of course, always appreciated.