TBT: Bent But Not Broken

Take all the poetry
Take all my time
You take what's yours
I used to think it was mine
Take what is left of me
Broken and scarred
Take it and fix it
This wild card
Take all the pieces
I've scattered on the ground
And make something beautiful
You can do that, I've found
Can you make me more worth it?
Less awkward and strange?
Stronger and sweeter
So the others don't run away?
(They don't think they will now
But they always do one day)
Lord, make me eternal
And gentle and kind
Let me be a mother
I'll do my best, you'll find
Just don't leave me stranded
Broken and bent
Don't leave me out here
Hung over a fence

God and Miracles

Scientists can sometimes act like science somehow proves there is no God. Because everything has an order, everything can be explained. There are no miracles right? I think they have the wrong definition of miracle.

That everything has a place is a miracle to me. What kind of great creator could cause everything, every piece of our universe to fit together on its own without any need for divine interference? The complicated rules, the chemistry, the science, the atomic particles, the harmony in an ecosystem in balance, just the fact that there is so much to discover and that everything has a place, that is pretty miraculous to me.

If the definition of a miracle is something happening that defies all normal laws, then perhaps there are no miracles. But stop and consider the great artistry of our universe once in a while, and you might be surprised what you find. I find miracles.

This is an old piece- I was looking through old notes and found it, and rather liked it! So here it is

Chalkboard

No more scritch-scratching
For this old and worn out chalkboard
No more writing, erasing, and writing again
No more screeches of chalk across the black
This old broken chalkboard has been put aside
Left outside in the rain
The chalk won't write as well
And the surface is scarred
Nobody needs a run-down chalkboard
They've moved on to better things
Whiteboards and markers that aren't as messy
Projectors and technology
No need for a black board and powdery sticks
The chalkboard gets left behind
Sometimes I think that we move on too quickly
And forget to be grateful for what we had before