The sky got smaller as I fell further

Falling from the sky to the earth is what I dreamt about

Was I scared

Is what you asked me

No

I knew I'd be caught before I met the rocks

And you asked me how I knew

From the sky looking down

I saw you

kind of how i feel today

sometimes i try to go on

and see the flame on the horizon 

stretch its fingers south 

but all i see is the moon closing its distance

between itself and me

ever opening its mouth

My new Banjo

Just got my banjo delivered yesterday. I must say that I am quite excited about this thing. Its awesome. This will fit nicely with the folk songs I've been writing lately. I've definitely have been changing up my musical writing style as of late which is turning out to be pretty awesome. Much more unique. 

Peace Like a River - Leif Enger

I just finished this book and would love to recommend it to you. 

Here is an Amazon link to it.  (i always buy used books, much cheaper) 

Anyways...amazing book. Leif has such a flowing writing style. I found myself relaxed as I read each page, soaking in the beautiful language and simple imagery. I felt as if the characters were real and found myself caring about them and always wanting more information about them. A plot that meanders and seems slightly vague gets pulled together at the end in a way that is unexpected. 

It has become one of my favorite books. Check it out. 

Random phrase

Wonderful cloud stress really about?

Yeah. Maine.

I'd love to spend a summer in Maine. I could become a lobsterman for three months of the year. Waking up before dawn, fry some eggs, grab my cup of coffee, leave a note for the family and head for the docks. I would love that. Board a creaky wooden boat, catch my bearded reflection in the water below and breathe in the salted air. That would be wonderful. Drop traps for the first part of the day and pull traps the rest. Dock the boat just before evening and peel off my waterproof overalls. Yellow waterproof overalls. I'd look down the wooden walkway and see the smile on my wifes face as I  bend down to hug my daughter. I'd take them to the pier for dinner and some salt water taffy. On the weekends we could search the beaches for driftwood and starfish. We could spend afternoons sitting beside famous lighthouses. We could have picnics and eat ice cream on a cone. With sprinkles, chocolate sprinkles. Thats what I would do if I could spend a summer in Maine. 

Sandy sand.

The ocean is so far from

these eyes,

these ears,

my senses.

Beauty. Sound. Smell. 

Raise thy voices all yea seagulls

fill the air with your freedom

let me hear.

Waves, crash and linger

bring all thy memories.

Tell of thy journey for I shall listen. 

Clouds, dance. 

Sun, set. 

Moon, rise. 

For day shall pass and night just as fast.

A glimpse I take at my fighting past 

a sadness of loss and love and belief 

and security and freedom and confidence 

and direction and foundation. 

I picked a leaf from a tree. It hasn't dried out yet.

"Do all you can do." A note that Vincent Layton had scribbled the day he found out he is losing his mind. Red ink on a blue Post It note and jammed in his levi's pocket. He was on a high which was unusual for the situation. So what if the doctor had also diagnosed Vincent's grandfather. So what if Vincent's grandfather turns up lost every few weeks. He's always been found. Besides Vincent is only 29 and he has a four year old daughter who needs him. There is no reason for him to be afraid of anything. He has things to do. 

Echos this empty room.

No emotion

film black and white

embraced by love

so shaken

reason becomes confusion

still visions of laughter

echos this empty room

*written by Matthew Renaud

Beautiful Saviour

Beautiful Saviour

You are my love,

Creator of my heart 

I gave you to hold

I give you my life

forever more

and with this day

only you I will serve

So take my hand 

and lead me

along side your footsteps

so I might live forever

in You.  

**written by my brother Matthew Renaud**

Faded Memories

**Written and should be heard being performed by my brother Matthew. This is one of my favorite songs. **

I wish I could be there,

'cause somehow I can hear, 

your all alone, memories you can't seem to let go.

upon your face, tear drop eyes

looking back on letters of love misplaced

and pretending it was just promises never made.

yeah I see now, 

it's coming back to me,

yeah I see now,

you were everything to me.

missing those softly spoken words,

"I love you" passes me by

without a breath to faded dreams,

what will never be of these unforgotten memories. 

yeah I see now,

it's coming back to me,

yeah I see now, 

you were everything to me. 

the beginning and the end has spoken words to me

somehow this gives me peace

So you Say.

you try to breathe, your heart is bleeds

it sees it needs more than it can be without me

feeling so dry and exposed,

the weight of your words, spreading to your soul

the lies they lead, they seems to leave 

you on your own

what now remains is only this empty mark and trace of what was,

what is, and what will solemnly be faced,

your memories never seemed as black and white, like tonight,

you promised yourself you'd never cry again.

so you said.

you substitute what you thought would only fill

wounds so deep, so empty, so strong they hold you so still,

shell filled illusions of fear and doubt, and stolen emotions

you thought were good as dead,

so you said. 

don't let this be the last on your list of regrets,

it's getting longer as time goes on,

it's getting longer it won't be long 

till it catches up with your heart,

it won't be long till everything is gone 

and your left all alone with a bleeding heart 

and your tears will fall farther than ever before,

the floor never seemed so far from the door,

where will you go from here

wow.

filing cabinets made of crappy particle board and wrapped in vinyl oak print. my feet tingle a bit while sitting in office chairs. a mind is a useful wasted thing. flowers that bloom and work their way through snow. a huge condo with ocean views and a seagull. feeling hungry my stomach tells me. forward thinking. this tree has limbs so tiny, so many, it looks like the vascular system of a living thing. flies buzz a bit. thinking hurts sometimes. a cat prowls. lazy ass. don't hit me in the back of the head. this too is a running man. fifth grade bubble gum tattoos are stupid. 949-718-3557. french fries.

Adjusted gasp.

He was walking to work this past tuesday morning which is only a stones throw from his house. That is if you can throw a stone a quarter mile. 

With the opening of the front door and a tuned introduction, Lois reminded him of her name. He hated that. Not her name. Names don't annoy him but after two and a half years she still acts like Kasper Rune will forget who she is.  

The words boisterous and annoying pop in his mind wrapped in quotation marks. Wrapped rather nicely actually. Like those wrappers that you pull and untwist revealing a creamy caramel. Kasper just loved caramels. He likes the fact that you need to chew a second to loosen what stuck from the first. His dentist on the other hand does not like caramels. 

With Mr. Rune's acknowledgment of Lois his foot catches the rug which Lois had excitingly set out this particular morning for patrons to brush the bottom of their shoes on. She had bought it with her own money at the market. A split second was doubled, no, it was tripled in the minds of the onlookers as Rune's satchel catches the door handle changing his momentum and spinning him so he was facing the ceiling. Impulse whispered and he reached out to "boisterous" and "annoying" but failed to catch her hand.

Clarice cherished the moments she had with Kasper each morning. Eggs over easy. Bacon crisp. English muffin buttered and moist but edges crunchy. That's what he made her every morning since that special afternoon when she gave him her heart. He would place her meal in front of her and she would batter her eyes and he would love that. He would even tell her that he loved that. It was their "thank you" and "your welcome." They were more thankful for each other than for the breath they were blessed with. They had their special ways to share this. 

The Rune's had one of those phones where you had to spin the dial/wheel and there would be this rhythmic ticking sound while it returned to the starting position waiting for the  second, third, seventh spin to complete the call. It was a beige color with a black spiraled chord. 

Midmorning that tuesday, Clarice had thought she had heard that beige phone ring but she was in the backroom at the time. The backroom was where her piano was stored. Kasper had bought this piano from the Breehan's who live down on main street next to the library and the towns' rose garden. They had one of those victorian type houses. Pilliars and such. It was a beautiful house. Stark white as if they scrubbed it by hand at the close of each week. The piano was not so beautiful. It was bare. It looked as if it was set outside in the rain for at least a day, maybe two. But Clarice had said it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten in her whole 26 years. She looked a bit older than her age but was a pretty girl and thought the piano was beautiful in its own little way. It was from her Love. 

The phone rang again. This time she could clearly hear it. Somehow though the ring accompanied the song Clarice was playing well and so she let it ring and played on. She was writing a song for her mother who had been admitted to the "crazy house" just months before. They were close. Her and her mother. Now they don't talk. But Clarice prays to her Jesus to save her mother and let her speak again. Kasper had told her that the Lord still performs miracles and Clarice believes that with all her heart. So she prays. 

Even now as then Clarice plays her piano everyday. She praises her Jesus for saving her mother and for holding Kasper in place of her own arms.

She loves to cry. It is her way of laughing. 

She loves to sing. It is her way of sitting in silence. 

She wishes that she had answered the phone to hear her husbands voice one last time.