For Freedom!!!

I haven't written in a while,
which seems wrong.. i always have something to say.
always.
i think maybe i was having issues with attaching images or something..
anyway, for now that will not stop me. this is just it, i'll just write. that's all i ever really wanted to do.

i wrote this about a month before christmas last year, a while ago anyway..

"freedom"

We fight for freedowm, as though it would solve all our problems.
We fight and we long for it;
religious freedom, sexual freedom, political freedom,

~what if i told you you already had it?

you are free

free to choose;
we just often choose to be slaves again,

But we are free.

Free to live, to die, free to dance and grind,
to sing or worship, free to love, or lust,
to hurt or hug.
Free to judge, to be humble,
Free to be selfish or selfless,
Free to do what we want, when we want.
Free to kick and scream,
or encourage and enrich.
Free to bitch and moan,
or move along.
Free to give ~ or take,
Free to do whatever we please.

I know of a man, or rather a king, a god, who was free.
Free to do whatever he wanted.
He made the rules.

So, whilst we are free,
there are consequences,
ours i suppose is a consequential freedom.
His was not.

His was uncontained, unrestrained, unconsequential.
For him at least.
He could ACTUALLY do whatever he wanted.
No one could say he was wrong,
because like i said:
he made the rules.

He could make all the ice cream in all the world and stuff his face til the cows came home.
He could play games with the wee humans,
tossing lightning bolts back and forth,
toying with us like the insignificant ants we are.
He could shake the world up and down,
or he could just start again,
after all, we stuffed up, we didn't care for him. or his funny rules.
He could've left us to the consequences of the freedom he gave us
~the consequences of our rebellion,
where we "freely chose" to do what we wanted, when we wanted.
He could've left us to hell.

But he didn't.

He saw the measly ants,
insignificant though we are,
and he stepped down from the heighest heights.
From his glorious palace,
His place of honour and awe.
He gave up his crown, his throne, his footstool.
~freely, might I add.

Freely, he gave it all up.

And stepped down.

To be born in a lowly manger
~what a strange King?
Royalty, in a manger.
With the cows and the sheep.
The hay and manure..

what a funny king indeed.

Fresh pickings

So I guess I’m a gardener now, an old woman who plays in her garden and drinks loads of tea

I got on the train with a friend the other day and made her look at the photos I’d taken of my garden, and I’ve been showing it off all through Christmas and want to talk about it with everyone and anyone who’ll dare pretend to listen.

But now, I’ve found an alternative, a better option I suppose. THE INTERNET!! Because you can’t refuse, you have to listen. And by you, i mean the world wide web which doesn’t really have a heart or soul to care anyway....

Oh well, it’s a place to ramble. SO. This is my garden, you can’t really see it, since you’re not really here, but these are some of the plants I’m growing. It’s mostly a herb garden, it started with some basil, some coriander, mint and some grape tomatoes (which the pictures do no justice for, they are going absolutely insane!).

I also planted some lavender coz it smells sooo good, but they haven’t really taken off yet – not as fast growing as the herbs, i planted a dwarf lime which has the same issue, maybe next Christmas i’ll get some limes! Since then the garden’s really developed i think, the rule of thumb is that anything that grows has to smell really good or be edible. My nursery man made me break that rule when he told me to plant some flowers to climb up this ladder I have in the garden... hmm you really need to see it. Next time I’ll put a picture of the whole garden. So anyway, I’ve gotta go out now but you’ve had a taste... kind of... I have, and the taste is wonderful! The herbs are delicious and the tomatoes are the sweetest I’ve ever had!

let it rain

as the day reaches an end,
the heat, more than i can bear,
the earth, dry.
the sun has scorched,
burning, frying, drying..
now hear the cry,
how she longs...
let it rain.

break the silence,
break the pain,
break the heat
that's breaking me.

slowly, surely,
the rain it falls,
sporadic at first,
drops, full and heavy
one by one, they slowly come,
and then, the clouds they cannot hold;
let it rain,
let it rain,
let it rain.