I've decided to make a 'Dream List.' It's more like a 'Goal List' except they're dreams. Not the kind you have at night; rather, it's the kind that is the sapling form of a vision. It's a list of things I want to do in the near, immediate, or faraway future. Happily drafted without thoughts of probability, possibility, or practicality in mind.

And because of my love for MS Word and making checklists (and being neurotic about order and presentation) I drew up a table with checkable boxes, bolded headings, and centered, left-justified cells.

I think everyone should make a Dream List. Here are some of my headings, in case you need inspiration (you don't have to have headings; I just like my dreams to be controlled and organized... and searchable... and indexed...):

Personal/Psychological Goals
Intellectual Goals
Spiritual Goals
People/Social Goals
Adventure Goals
Physical Goals
Silly Goals
Serious Goals
I've deleted the silly/serious goals. There is no respect of goals here.

These dreams (although I just noticed that I called them all goals...) include things like "See a Kangaroo in real life... (in its native habitat)." and "Get my handwriting analyzed." (That was a 'silly' goal.) And that's all I'm going to share. You're on your own from here.

They say without a vision, people perish. Even silly visions, I suppose, propel you forward.

It's often far too easy to lose vision. Especially if you've been knocked off the track a little bit. I always thought I was a vision-oriented person, but as I started to write these down, I noticed the difference between just "having it in my head" and then challenging myself to meet them. Now that it's written down (with the added incentive of being able to check 'em off), they are that much more appealing, and hold that much more accountability.

I did a lot of thinking tonight. Or a lot of remembering, I should say. God brought back to mind all the things I thought I knew. It's funny how the same old lessons have not diminished their original power as they reintroduce themselves into the various stages of life.

Trust in God.

No, that is not an Adventure Goal. Or a spiritual goal, for that matter. It's not even on my list. (The list is for tangible things that are capable of being checked off, btw.) This... this is a life goal. It's something that I am glad to say should never and will never be checked off.

In the meantime, I am secure in the knowledge that I have made a decision that has altered the course of my life. And there is no turning back. The security and peace of mind I have knowing that no matter what I have an anchor and that no matter how bad things get, I know my center. I wouldn't trade that for a world full of checked-off dreams.

And as I navigate this world, I want to trust Him every step of the way. Knowing that He always shows up. And He always pulls through.

So here we go. Though the storm clouds darken the sky, o'er the heavn'ly trail... I'll just keep trusting my Lord... He will never fail.

I suppose it's in the nature of a job like this. Statistically speaking, it's unavoidable, really. Cold math points to the reality that it is bound to happen. But cold math never tells you how to deal with it. It's never fair when the numbers are against you.

Last night, our school was informed that a former student had a sudden aneurysm. As a few students attempted to rush into DC to see her and her family, she passed away. She was 16.

It's a weekend and I am bracing myself for the next school day. I don't know how to help being that I'm in denial myself. I'm pressed to speed up my own process of sifting through what's happened so I can be ready for the wave of students that I know is already cresting at my office door.

No, I am not a guidance counselor. But they treat me like one.

All I can think about right now is her dimpled smile... her contagious laughter. She was so full of life. Isn't that something we all say about the young who pass away? The truth is, I don't believe that this is something that anyone can really "get over." I remember the people who passed away when I was young. I don't think I ever really "got over" it. In my mind, it is still confusing, dissonant, irrational. How can the living understand death? Do we ever fully "get over" it? Does it ever fully go away, forever?

Death is unnatural.

And when a parent outlives her child, it is much more unnatural.

It is the biggest offense, really: the largest insult to a creation that is molded after an immortal God... and it beats at us, relentlessly, day by day. Irrationally. Unfairly. Interminably. And it changes us forever.

She'd left the school at some point last year and transferred to another school closer to her home (for various reasons.) Thus, there are some students who don't know her and don't understand what is happening, or have been so distanced from her that this trauma is even more confusing.

I am thinking of her cousin who was like her shadow and twin.

I am thinking of the boy who dated her who was going through difficult times as it were.

I am thinking of the bewildered students who never made it in time.

I am thinking of God, who in His own grief, is already faced with fingers and turned-away backs, and bitterness, and rage, and accusations. How is it that the Prince of this world who paid the price of His own blood to conquer death lets Himself be accused of this very same crime?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

But death has been swallowed up in victory. Swallowed up. In one big, loving gulp.

Bigger than any playground bully.

This is for you, D.C. Rest until He comes.

For a hermit like me, big crowds are a nightmare. Especially big crowds that invade my space. Sometimes I just like to be left alone. And be in the quiet. I like quiet.

It's Alumni Weekend at our school this weekend. At least it's not the Centennial like it was last year. But still. Invasion. And then Academy days. More invasion. Big crowds. Invasion. And work on weekends.

I'm sitting here looking at the schedule and at the huge number of highlighted areas that indicate that I'm on duty. There's a lot of that. I am not happy. But I am trying not to complain. It is sheer willpower. Sheer. Willpower.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I don't like it when people spell breathe wrong. Breath is a noun. Breathe is a verb. You breathe a breath.

See? The complaining just leaks out in the form of a grammar rant. Sorry.

But really. Some days I'm not sure I'll make it. My threshold has become lower and lower and I my fuse is likewise getting shorter... poor kids. I hate this. I need a nice, long, perspective-establishing break. Just a break. Just a break. Just... a little... break.........

So anyway. There's a song in my head. It's called "Freedom is Coming." I love it. The words are simple: Freedom. Freedom is coming. Oh yes I know. Yes I know, oh yes I know. Second stanza: Oh Jesus. Jesus is coming. Oh yes I know. Yes I know, oh yes I know.

My students sung this at a concert and my heart just thrilled.

Yes, I know. It is not a mystery. It is not an unstable promise. It is not fearful. It is sure. And I know. Oh yes, I know. Freedom is coming. Jesus is coming. Oh yes, I know.

I have forgotten my life's desire: to hear the praise of Jesus: Well done, thou good and faithful servant.... I will work until I die to hear those words. No one else's praise matters. No one else's praise, not hundreds of people's, matter. But it's a surety.

Oh yes, I know.

or, I Hate Dem Flies

I hate
Dem flies
The way dere skeletal bodies
Thud their way across the
Inside
Of my windows
Dirty even in their attempts
To escape
Never sure if dey come or go

I hate
Dem flies
The way dey leave traces of
5 million germs
As dey crawl
Hairy-legged across the
Papers on my desk
My clipboards and
The rim of my watercup

I hate
Dem flies
How dey rub dere hands
In the semblance of prayer
Instead depositing dirty traces
Of all the dirty places dey've been
And leaving it on sleeves
Desks and
People's hair

I hate
Dem flies
I hate dere dead bodies
Dere exoskeletons
Decomposing on my windowsill
I hate dere wings
Dere ever-shifting mouths
Even dere flight
Normally enviable

I despise

Worse than
Lepidopteras* whose
Fragile flight at least holds
Beauty for some

Useless creatures
Dem flies
Dirty creatures with which
I wish
I held less in common

© j.e.s

---
*The scientific name for butterflies, which I used to think were gross. If the thought crosses your mind that there is a common denominator of wings, I wrote a poem about that too, years ago. (Science lesson: flies are of the order 'diptera' which stands for 'two wings.')

This particular poem though, was written on impulse while in my office today, prepping for class. Poems that hit me like this always demands release.

Fly, dirty fly, fly away.

The last stanza, for those of you who need interpretations (and since I am in the rare mood for providing them) comes from Isaiah 64. Ultimately, and often, it comes down to the unsettling truth that we are what we often despise.

There is some internal meaning behind the breaking of lines and stanzas though, which you will just have to figure out yourselves. =)

The cold, dirty facts about flies:
http://www.uen.org/utahlink/activities/view_activity.cgi?activity_id=1026
Flies are gross. They will vomit on you. They do carry about 5 million germs.
Fly away, dirty fly, fly away.

Thoughts from John 1:43ff (Clicking this will open to the verse in a new tab.) This verse is about Phillip's introduction of Jesus to Nathaniel.

I've read this account many times before, but for some reason, this time around, a question jumped out at me and hit me.

What happened under the fig tree? It must've been more than just an impression of Divine knowledge or a affirmation of "you're a nice guy," that impressed Nathaniel. It takes more than just a simple, "I have super-good vision," to move a heart to burst out into a confession of faith. Particularly from a man who, moments earlier, questioned whether or not this same Jesus was a crock. (Nazareth was no place for someone who was purportedly of royal lineage to come out of.) So what transpired under the tree? What was it that caught Nathaniel's mind and heart?

Perhaps Jesus saw Nathaniel struggle under that tree. Perhaps it was that there was a certain prayer that was lifted up; a request, or a plea. Perhaps it was that there were some intense words that were exchanged. Perhaps divinity and humanity clashed mightily. Perhaps they struggled. Or perhaps there was a beautiful communion of God and man under that tree. Perhaps Nathaniel asked to be pure and noble, and claimed promises of freedom from deception and guilt. Perhaps the greeting of, "Behold, a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false," was a "inside" statement that meant something deeper to Nathaniel than to anyone else. The book 'Desire of Ages' states that Nathaniel was praying and meditating on the prophesies of Christ and was specifically praying about the deliverer that John the Baptist had spoken of. What the exact contents of those prayers were however, we won't know for a while.

Whatever the case was, when Jesus said to Nathaniel, "I saw you..." it seemed to imply that it was in more than just the physical sense. It seemed that Jesus' address to Nathaniel was familiar--like a meeting between two folk who had parted in the not-too-distant past. His address was not, "And who's your friend, Philip?" but a, "Good to see you again, friend-of-mine-whose-heart-I-know." It was as though Jesus was telling Nathaniel, "I have heard your prayers, and this is your answer. Your search is over. I am here."

And Nathaniel? His response was one which rang of surprise. It was a question of intrusion: When were you a partaker of my life? How do you know the thoughts of my heart? How were you privy to my thoughts? When did you have a chance to eavesdrop on that conversation? "How is it that you know who I am?" This question bypassed humility and pride. It bypassed the surprise of an unusual greeting. It cut through to what Nathaniel was responding to: hope. Could this be the man, for real? The Son of God Himself? The answer to his secret prayers?

Have you had these encounters with God? I don't mean the second encounter--I mean the first: the encounter with God under the tree. When you spoke with Him--or when you thought He wasn't watching. When you thought you were alone in the struggle. When you thought...

The most amazing thing about God is that he always defies our expectations. When we think, "What good can come out of Nazareth?" When God does not fit our mold, and when we simply don't want to believe. He knows us. He hears us. He is willing and able--exceeding abundantly so-- to fill our heart's desires when we do what Nathaniel did and 'come and see' for ourselves.

It is apt that often it is a different tree under which we find ourselves being found of Christ. It is this tree, this Cross that 'liftest up my head,' this Cross that holds so much mystery, wonder, and love for some and hate and spite for others. (1 Cor. 2:13f)

Sometimes it is our personal biases that keep us from coming. If Nathaniel had stopped with "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" It would have been another regular day for him. But it so happened that his life changed completely instead. If our prejudices and misconceptions about Christ are what keeps us from having a deeper understanding of who He wants to be in our life... the call is simple: come and see.

And what is there to see? A God who defies boundaries, expectations, boxes, cubby holes, molten images, imaginations on high places, book bindings, stories, traditions, laws (natural or otherwise) ... He has power over the things that have power over us: doubt, temptations, sin, pain, habits, thoughts, self... He has power over demons and devils, cherubim and seraphim, life and death. The earth, the sea, the dry land, and everything in it and around it are subject to His voice. He has power over things we can't control, things we've ruined, things we've neglected, things we admire, things we envy...

And we thought we could understand it all. If we bought enough books. If we studied more. If we argued. If we denied. If we put it all under a microscope and shook our heads at it.

So here I am, under this tree. Grateful that He continues to teach me. Grateful that I have a God who is truly a God: wonderful, mysterious, kind, loving, long-suffering, gentle... He is my Rock of Ages, cleft for me. I can hide in Him. I can trust Him. He has been that Unchanging One amid the storms of life, and I know He ever will continue to be.

UPDATE: IT IS DONE. Thanks, all. Thanks. I mean it. I am not gong to forget the "little people" although yes, I am at a point where you are now "little." I want to thank my family, my mom (who does not read this or know I have it or know how to get here or know how to spell "sjhang-gah"), and oh yes, God, who every rapper thanks for all their bling... why I am being facetious about this I do not know but I do know that it was all just mockery except for the fact that He indeed fills me. I am truly beyond joyful that He has become my anchor. The struggle to get there... all worth it. The TRUE badge? Moth and rust.
____

Stupid Calvin Klein commercials. How is it that advertising can ruin a word? Every time I see the word 'obsession' there's an echo of it in my head, except that it's some weird whispered voice-over.

Anyway, I have a confession. Yes, another one. (What was the last one? I don't know. Maybe it was about the GPS.) Man, if I was Catholic, Xanga would be a perfect outlet for me. Too bad Xanga can't forgive sins.... ("Forgive me, Xanga, for I have sinned... it has been... oh, a few hours maybe, since my last post... er, confession...")

This is getting a little out of hand. I mean, it's not a terrible obsession (whisper:obsession) as far as they can go... and in fact, it's been quite "good for the community" (I am starting to make this stuff up), but it is obsessive nonetheless.

It's about the TRUE status. I am rolling my eyes at myself. I know, I know. It's dumb. It's not really about the badges... I have the "life" badge and the "premium" badge (the latter is incidentally a default if you have 'life') but I choose not to display the badges. But for some reason, I am 95% (or maybe it was 96% the last time I checked, which ought to be fresh since it was probably TWO MINUTES AGO) to the mark, and I am trying to restrain myself. The status indicator tells me something along the lines of: "You need to comment more. Real TRUE users do that, you know."

So I've been commenting. And reading more. And contributing.

Terrible, isn't it?

And all for a badge that I may or may not choose to show.

Help me.

I don't even know why. What is it for? What is it about? Why do I want it? I guess I feel like I'm entitled to it. I mean, I've been on this thing FOREVER. If you count 5 years to be forever. That's half a decade. Don't I get any points for loyalty? (Don't tell anyone about my secret wordpress blog. Ahem. Huh? What blog?)

It's an addiction. I know it. But I am easing myself into it, see? And please note that if I do comment, it's really because I want to, and not because it is one more notch in my TRUE belt. I do have standards, you know. And I suppose it's not 'out of hand' because it's not interfering with the quality of my life or my regularly scheduled life activities... ...yet.

Do you think we're geared to be like this? Obsessive? (I am trying to avoid that word and that voice-over.) Were we made to be people who are capable of completely immersing ourselves in a love? Personally, I find that to be true. This goes back to the whole image of God thing. We were meant to be monogamous in mind, body, and spirit. This whole 'sin' thing really is cramping our style. We are individuals whose minds were perfected for single-mindedness in a world of dichotomies.

Not that I'm endorsing having a closed mind. The single-mindedness is not the same as close-mindedness. I'm just saying that perhaps we were made to have an obsession. (whisper:obsession) We were made to love God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strengths. And yet here we find ourselves, fighting the insult of old age, osteoporosis, myopia, degenerating nerve cells, muscle cells, brain cells... decaying social relationships....

I'm hopeful of a better future. I'm hopeful for a look into how things were supposed to be. This concept intrigues me. How is it like to live life the way it was made to be? I'm on my way to finding out, brothers, sisters, on this great road home. On my way!

Until then... my heart will go on singing. (And I probably will keep on commenting.) Almost there. Almost. Almost.

Everyone looks for meaning. Somehow that's an inherent part of the human experience. When something happens, we look for the cause. We ask, 'Why?' Even infants express surprise when things happen outside the realm of physical possibility. We want to know the causes of things, how they happen, and what will happen next.

Ultimately, I think everyone at some point in life faces the question of the existence of God. Where did we come from? Why am I here? Why do we even ask these questions? What is it about human beings that make us able to question our own existence? I also believe that there is abundant doubt in this world, being that doubt operates on all things unprovable: whether it be in the realm of religion and spirituality or in the realm of quantum physics and the big bang. How many times did I, as an antitheist, doubt my doubts of God?

This is the single most unique thing about human beings. Granted, because we cannot communicate with animals, we don't know what they are thinking. When a dog looks out the window, is he contemplating the metaphysics of this world? Is he wondering why he is there and why he was not born a human being, or a different breed of dog, or an antelope? Or is he thinking: truck. truck. truck. truck. truck. bird! truck. truck.... ? Or is it just static up in that noggin? Maybe some meaningless barking? (I gave this analogy in class and I think the kids were amused at my imitation of existential-sounding barks.) Language fascinates me. But that is a different topic for a different day.

I asked one of my students one day what the difference between humans and animals were. I think I caught him off guard because after contemplating the question, he quickly responded, "I don't know. Fur?" I laughed and told him that I know some humans that were pretty furry. His next responses were "houses," which he quickly recanted. I helped him modify it to "good houses" but we admitted that there were some bad houses, homeless people, and some pretty high-tech beaver dams.

So why the difference? How did we get to be able to think about ourselves? How did this 'evolve'? Or are we simply made in the image of God? =) This image includes self-determination, free will, contemplation, and on smaller scales, wisdom and creation. Even creation of bad housing structures.

For those who believe that there is an omnipotent God, what is He doing? Cranking the great gears of time behind the curtains? Blowing the clouds away from a baseball game? Devising some new scheme for the misery/glory of this world? Finding parking spaces for me in the Dulles Airport long-term parking lot? Is he, as Nietzsche claimed, really dead? God's actions often defy our imaginations, and when He does not fit the mold we want him to fit in, we reject Him.

I find that many people judge God on the basis of preconceived notions of who they think He is. Personally, I think that's a little obtuse. We don't do this to others (and we bristle when it is done to us) but God, the ultimate scapegoat, is pinned for everything every misinformed critic (including ourselves) chooses to conjure up.

I know there is more than a missing link that separates us from the animal world. I know that life, the universe, everything has more meaning than numbers or facts, or geological data. I know that within this blue planet there are people trying to claw their way into their own meaningful existences, trying to sort through this confusing mess of death, disease, and weights of protons to an larger understanding of the world's operations.

I know that God sustains us.

The Israelites were sustained in the wilderness by these frosty white wafers. They called the thing Manna. Literally speaking, "manna" means "what is it?" Because, as Exodus 16:15 puts it, "they did not know what it was."

And really, what is it that upholds us? God's manna is still falling on us every day, and truly, when I look at it, I do not know what it is, but I know that whatever this "what is it" is, it is good. It not only sustains me, but upholds me. It directs me and protects me. It gives me wisdom and an anchor on which to build.

There are many things that are mysteries to us. But God is a mystery I have completely bought in to, and it is my joy and life's direction to live according to that decision. And every day, God gives me that divine 'whatchamacallit' that, although it is not filled with caramel or nuts or crispy rice, feeds me and nourishes me and helps me see clearly in this world.

That, my friends, is some good food.

I yelled at my GPS today. Trust me, it's a long story. I did apologize. OK, and technically it wasn't a yell. More like a question. That I half-shouted. Alone. In my car. It's a long story.

But I learned something.

a. Sometimes, you think you know where you're going but you don't.
b. Sometimes, it's best not to listen when someone (/thing) is giving you bad information.
c. Sometimes, what you think is bad information is really good information.
d. NYC has traffic all day and all night long. And cars driven by people who want to run down everyone in their way.
e. 11pm is rush hour for people who want to avoid NYC traffic.
f. Sometimes, when you get off track, you REALLY get off track.
g. Sometimes you have to wander for a long time before you get back on the right road.
h. In times like these (g) it's best to listen and be patient.
i. People love you and wait for you even while you're wandering.
j. God's love is, and always has been, unconditional. (I learn this afresh once in a while and it shakes me every time.)
k. The destination is sweeter after a struggle to get there.
l. Humility comes swiftly after you've asked an inanimate object if she'd "ever seen this area before?!" because you thought you were there before but realized quickly that really, you were not.
m. Update the GPS before going places.
n. Don't put your trust in something to guide you if you don't have confidence in it to begin with.
o. Just because a GPS looks nice, doesn't mean it's dependable. Especially in certain places.
p. God answers prayer.
q. The GPS is programmed to get you to your destination, but that doesn't mean you shut off your brain. (This I knew; but combined with (b) and (c) this is recipe for disaster.)
r. God is not a GPS.
s. Hewlett Packard should stick to palms and PC's, not navigation devices.
t. Many times, it boils down to things just being your fault.
u. In these cases, learn from it or learn how to prevent it from happening to you again.
v. There's always a way out.
w. Sometimes you have to turn around.
x. Sometimes you gotta turn off every other distraction and focus on what's at hand.
y. Sometimes when you think you're following directions, you're really not.
z. Don't blame others for something that you could've done something about.

I'm stopping there. I'm glad that there are object lessons everywhere and God still wants to teach me. Sometimes I wonder why I find myself in certain situations, or why God allowed things to happen. And no, I am not talking about NYC traffic anymore. I am thinking of my life, and my personal trials. I am thinking of the frustrations of battles I thought I won already, and roads which should never have been traversed.

I then I am thinking of Hebrews 12, and how God is said to chasten His children. I don't know when these lessons come, or why. I really have no idea what this "chastening" from God is supposed to look and feel like, of if I can tell the difference between that and anything else. But I know that He does it because we need it. And "no chastening for the present seems to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised by it." (v. 11)

Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet... (v. 12)

God's love is unconditional. For those who understand it, it is incomprehensible. For those who believe it, it is unbelievable. For those who have experienced it, it is completely and utterly life-changing. However God is chastening you today, lift up your head, straighten your knees. It will yield fruits fit for Heaven itself.

Don't give up. It's never too late. Do you believe...?

Sometimes when life takes a turn, it's not always into Edenic territory. Though the road be rough and thorny, trackless as the foaming sea, [He] has trod this way before me, and I'll gladly follow [Him.]

Sorry, I suppose, is sometimes just not enough. I suppose this is why this huge gap had to be bridged by a member of the Godhead, rather than a word, a feeling, or an overused apology. And what kind of gap is big enough that angels (with their tremendous wingspans), human beings (barack obama with his giant electrons that swayed a nation), and thousands of dead animals could not fill it?

And so we sing.

O for a Closer Walk With God... and it seems as though this 'closer walk' would be devoid of any kind of sin and struggle, and the peace we expect is the heavenly harping that is couched in quietude and framed with majestic clouds and winged messengers of peace.

And yet this is war.

I think of David and his approach to Goliath: prepared, but with weapons of warfare that were of the godly sort: "I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel..." He didn't say, "...and with a few stones and a sling, which by the way, I happen to be awesome at." He said, "This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand." He said, "The battle is the Lord's, and He will give you into our hands."

They that are with us are more than they that are with them.

No matter how giant and intimidating they are (and no matter how many fingers they have on each hand.) When David saw Goliath, he "ran towards the battle line to meet the Philistine." We tend to run from our problems, not to them. We hide our defects, our troubles, our struggles. The enemy is one to flee from, not someone who will flee from us. Perhaps if our sins were more visible (like the leprosy of the Bible where our cries of 'unclean!' would precipitate our arrival everywhere we went) things would be different. Perhaps if we understood what Paul meant in Romans ("we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance character; and character hope..") we would understand why these things come upon us.

Not that I condone embracing our enemy. Embracing suffering doesn't mean we have to love it. It doesn't mean we enter into some odd covenant with "the prince of darkness grim." It means we meet it, accept it, let it change us.

Not I, but Christ. This is the victory of faith. This is the victory that overcomes all our sorry apologies, all our insufficient attempts at short-lived self-perfection, and our ropes-of-sand promises.

Jen _xxx_

Doesn’t have a 10-line epitaph
Doesn’t want to be remembered in 10 lines
Or even two
She’d prefer to rest in peace
And let the passers-by
Go in peace
Without having to stop and read some 10-line epitaph
Written in some 10 minute stint
For a class assignment that wasn’t even hers

So don’t make her write an epitaph
Don’t make her talk about what she didn’t do
(Change the world)
Don’t make her talk about her accomplishments
(Writing what is turning out to be much more than
A 10-line epitaph)

Go about your business
Build houses and gardens and
Other people’s gravestones… let the world spin
Out on its eternal axis and let her rest

Let her wait for Heaven in her own peaceful sleep
Let her free from the dew of this world and
The stinging insults of this nettled air
Let her free from sonnets, from praise

From grief and from fear
From 10-line epitaphs
From hours of prayer for those she loved

Only give her a stone
(A rest for her head)
And visions of angels singing a great hymn of praise
Give her a cake baked over hot glowing coals
Give her a stick with a small post-it note
That reads, if you must, a
Short explanation: She waits.

*Some students were asked by their English teacher to write their own epitaph. This is what I came up with for myself as they asked for my help. (I did help them too.) It's supposed to be at least 10 lines long.

I was always a rebel when given assignments like these... if you were to write your own epitaph that was at least 10 lines long, what would you write?