thispassion.

we're just two artists,

chasing our dreams, hoping to be

found by the light someday. we feel

like we're standing in the wrong place,

even though it's where we ought to be. 

wat we can't understand is simply

a divine plan of sorts, one that's as visible

as the wind that fills our sails. the pirates

try to rob us of possessions that

weren't our to begin with. wat would a

dream be if it was handed to us?

the hands are willing and able, 

but they don't satisfy our fickle needs, not 

on purpose, only our deep-seeded needs

and desires, with great intention.

we don't understand the pattern of the waves

or the winds or the plates,

but we hold hope that these roots

will sprout someday, someday 

into something even more beautiful than 

this passion.

[luke 12:24]