knowing and hope
sometimes isaac brock can whip out some great lyrics:
The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in? In your head, in your mouth, in your soul. And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old. Well I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I hope so.
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The difference between hope and hopelessness is a decision. So is the difference between hoping and knowing. I really believe we can choose to know. Sometimes it's the hardest choice there is. It's easier to hope then to know, and it's easier still to lose faith instead of holding on to the hope within. I choose to hope and I hope I choose to know.
Sometimes I step outside on my porch and the sky is gloriously unreal. Pink clouds speed by encased in golden linings, purple skies bleed into navy blue nights. The stars rush out and fill the sky, tiny dots of light representative of the unbearable size of the universe.
Why do beautiful sunsets seem unreal? It is because it's easier to believe the coldness in life than to believe in the beauty? Do you have to believe in one or the other, are they different sides of the same page? Or, better yet, is the coldness of the world the page itself, filled with the poems and stories and delicate ramblings of the souls living upon it? I hope so... I know so.
Why do the stars appear so small? Maybe it is so we do not get caught up in our childish obsession with "bigger, better, faster, more." Maybe it is so we can all breathe easier about our own size and place in life. Really, though the size of the universe may seem startling and even crushing, we can take comfort in our small stake. Our small size is indicitive of how small our problems really are, of how POSSIBLE what seems impossible really is. That is why I believe I can choose to know.
If we all chose to know, would there be any doubt?
The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in? In your head, in your mouth, in your soul. And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old. Well I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I hope so.
---
The difference between hope and hopelessness is a decision. So is the difference between hoping and knowing. I really believe we can choose to know. Sometimes it's the hardest choice there is. It's easier to hope then to know, and it's easier still to lose faith instead of holding on to the hope within. I choose to hope and I hope I choose to know.
Sometimes I step outside on my porch and the sky is gloriously unreal. Pink clouds speed by encased in golden linings, purple skies bleed into navy blue nights. The stars rush out and fill the sky, tiny dots of light representative of the unbearable size of the universe.
Why do beautiful sunsets seem unreal? It is because it's easier to believe the coldness in life than to believe in the beauty? Do you have to believe in one or the other, are they different sides of the same page? Or, better yet, is the coldness of the world the page itself, filled with the poems and stories and delicate ramblings of the souls living upon it? I hope so... I know so.
Why do the stars appear so small? Maybe it is so we do not get caught up in our childish obsession with "bigger, better, faster, more." Maybe it is so we can all breathe easier about our own size and place in life. Really, though the size of the universe may seem startling and even crushing, we can take comfort in our small stake. Our small size is indicitive of how small our problems really are, of how POSSIBLE what seems impossible really is. That is why I believe I can choose to know.
If we all chose to know, would there be any doubt?