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Just like white dots on velvet skies
burn brightest when the crescent dies,
so with unsung sacrifice
passion provokes the chest to rise,
and fill the soul with silent air;
relieve this yoke of dust we bear;
replace the talons of the snare
with that which wings and hours share.

Accept this gift from blinded hands,
shrug off your skin of wounded sand.
When cries of birth come from the land
will we remember how to stand,
and see the hope in ocean spray
and guard the gates of words we say,
embrace our hearts when we're away,
burn off the poison of the fray?

Fear not the spoils of this fight,
the wound's reward lasts through the night
and hides the lies of sound and sight
to make them allies in the rite,
for eloquence can't be assumed
to quiet questions of the tomb,
yet if you let this power bloom
you'll find the lock to nature's doom.

The Ghost of Love

I wanted to write something... but couldn't really think of any words worth putting down, so here are some lyrics I wrote... or a poem if you'd rather. It's all just words in the end.


A stranger's bed in a stranger's house,
a stranger's tongue in a stranger's mouth.
Is the Devil or God the one to blame?
I'm gasping for air, but I forgot your name,
and our bodies make friends with the dark;
how much pride would it cost, to keep us apart?

Oh, I can be your ghost of love,
if you promise that you'll hold me up
as we drag each other down
and try to forget the sound
of the voice that is crying for something more;
a spark to ignite this fire we forced
'cuz its the curtain call,
and you can't stand tall on the floor.

Are you dead inside? Or just living your life?
Seizing every moment 'fore it passes you by,
Is the fire, or the fear your drive?
Do you know who you are, or is this just a disguise?
And why as I wait for your unsaid replies
am I transfixed by my reflection that I see in your eyes?

Oh, tonight I am the ghost of love,
and maybe for a moment I can hold you up
as we drag each other down

Well I don't know if I'm a man or a mouse
but my best laid plans brought me to a stranger's bed
in a stranger's house.
Well I don't know if I am cursed or saved
but no matter what I wish its not the devil or god
but me to blame.

Oh, I am the ghost of love
but only something solid can hold you up,
And I am the ghost of love.

Thought #3

What if everybody was honest with each other without fear of losing face? What if we shared our struggles and our flaws, as well as our successes and our gifts? What if at the end of our lives, we look back and see we were so focused on getting our reward that we failed to recognize that by the grace of the Divine it was waiting for us the whole time, we had but to let down our guard and seize it? What if we could already experience eternity everyday in every bond we make and every act of selfless service we perform for the World? Does it matter? Because the only thing that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt about this life is that at every moment, in everything we do, we are able to make a choice about how we want to live. And what if we all chose Love?

Thought #2

I have trouble believing that all man-kind is truly bound to fate, since we all have within us the power to change our state. But so often we get settled in a systematic way and let the comfort of routine be the one to plan our day. It seems foolish that we would waste even a second we are given, when at any moment we are free to alter how we're living. I mean, come on.

Thought #1

Everything that we build will one day fall away, so we should try to love as many people as we can, since that is the only way to truly give our lives any significance.

Guatemala #2, Lake Atitlan

After my first week in Guatemala, I have already noticed my spanish improving. But were I to master all the languages of the world, I would still lack the words to describe the beauty of Lake Atitlan. The shimmering blue water filled the basin as if the surrounding volcanoes had stretched their hands deep into the heart of the earth and scooped it up to give life to the land, and the serenity of the valley was so delicate that I felt at any moment the hills would spread their fingers and let that same water sink back into the depths. Above all this, clouds of every shape and size chased each other across an azul sky in harmony with the trees dancing in the wind along the shore. A symphony had come to life before my eyes, and I could do naught but stare.

As I sat there at the edge of the lake, I was reminded of all the times I had sat in similar fashion before the ocean. Those moments have always seemed to remind me of the shear vastness of the natural world around me. But this lake, nestled in the highlands of Guatemala amongst volcanoes that seemed to spring up from the flat fertile ground instantaneously into soaring peaks, evoked in me instead a sense of the powerful majesty of creation. I was a servant kneeling in awe before my king. Coming from a country where it often feels like everyone is in a race to conquer nature, I enjoyed this blunt reminder of the power of their foe.

Still, we humans are a determined lot, and I would only be telling half of the story if I failed to mention the bustling villages that had taken root where they could around the lake. My breif trip only allowed me the luxury of visiting one of them, so I wont make assumptions about the others, but Panajachel felt familiar the moment I stepped off of the bus. The colorful locals mingled seamlessely with the inevitable plethora of tourists that were drawn there, and this conglomorate of cultures immediately reminded me of many parts of Los Angeles where I grew up. Despite the obvious contrast with their natural surroundings, the ramshackle buildings of the village fit in with them surprisingly well. I could easily imagine that instead of being built they had simply grown in with the trees, a gift from the land to all those who worked its soil.

Unfortunately, for a place such as this, 1000 words are worth a mere drop of water in the deep, cool lake. Like all things beautiful, it must be felt, and could never be perfectly described. However, I felt compelled to try, and I hope I have been able to share even a small part of what I found at Lake Atitlan.

Guatemala #1

So I am in Guatemala! One difference I didn´t expect is that the keyboard for the computer is slightly different, but I´m still able to use it... obviously.

Arriving and getting to Xela ended up being much easier then I thought it would be. I was practically rushed through immigration and customs, and the cab driver had no problem understanding that I needed to get to the bus station. I met a fellow American at the station... saved him from spending $100 US on a taxi, and caught the next bus to Xela.

So far the spanish school has been amazing. My teacher´s name is Anabella and she is very patient with my poor spanish. I think she actually finds it funny. My host parents are awesome as well. They treat Jeena (my friend from Calvin) and I like a part of their family.

After school monday I went and did yoga with Jeena and Daniel, an Australian (there are currently 3 students out of 7 at our school named Daniel). Apparently I´m not flexible at all, but it was still really fun and I think we are going back today.

Yesterday the three of us and Sasha, an art student from Boston, climbed the mountain that looks over the city. It was an awesome view, and there was also a cement slide at the top that we went down on crushed plastic bottles. Some local kids showed us how to sit on them in order to go faster. Then we jogged back down the trail. I´m actually getting more exercise this trip then I have in a long time!

So much more to talk about, but thats it for this post. Hasta Luego!