branches swaying

morning dew
says how are you
ready to face this day?
what have i left
to say

if i do the dew
and say im fine
will i suffuciently conclude
this rhyme

if i dont do the dew
and say im not
the world may wonder
what i've forgot

loved ones praying
branches swaying
my peace comes from Him
and I'll answer

Jeg er bra, tak

can i love

Jesus.

If I was to write you a love letter, what would it look like? Would there be lots of blotches on the page where I couldn’t find the words to say or places where the lines were scratched out a thousand times? Would there be tears on the pages? Would the words be long and lingering or short and succinct? Would I tell you I couldn’t live without you? Would I tell you that my one desire is to live and breathe in you, or would I pretend otherwise?

CAN I LOVE YOU? Are we capable of such consistency in a world that is always changing? I don’t want to change. Instead, I want to grow in you, to know you more. I want to believe you more because I know you more. I want to trust you because of who I know you to be. I want to trust that the gifts I have to give are already yours. Would you work on my heart? Would you break me of my pride and stubborn fear? Would your holy spirit wash over me I pray that I would submit every aspect of life to you. Every desire Every fear Every tear cried ever Every heartache Every injustice Every burden Every person Every love Every gift Every goodness Every song Every joy Every pain Every hope Every dream Every project Every professor Every friend Every roommate Every Christian Every step. Lord of life would you define the boundaries of my mind and heart and the limits of my mind so that I would submit each and every thing held tightly to you?

Let my hands release and heart unfold and mind unwind so you can have your work in me…..that your peace would fill my heart. I want the peace that passes understanding and guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. I trust that you know me Lord and love me beyond what I can comprehend…….renew in me the faith of my first love with you.

undone

Today I realized something

If i stop
breathing
walking
moving
talking
spinning
dancing
running
hopping
and doing kartwheels

the World will keep on going
the Planets will stay in alignment
the Stars will be just as bright
the Sun will rise and fall
and people will maintain "order"

If I decide to take a day off
its possible

no one will notice
its possible
no one will miss
the running spinning and hopping
of my general existence

its possible that the world will be a better place

with or without me
but not
with or without God

if
i saw all
the miracles in a day
would i recognize that it was Him?
would i give the glory to Him?
would i stop thinking of myself?
would i leave the equation
and become
undone

they run on

The hills and curves of farmland melt into the landscape. A carpet of green meets trees and gullies and brown fields which run to meet my eye. There is no end in sight, for the trees run on and on into the horizon, claiming the farthest mountains. Red farmhouses dot the landscape through the leafless birches and wooded fortress. The barns do not seem out of place because someone must tend these fields of green. Otherwise, they would not bear fruit and instead return to the wilderness from which they came. What is out of place is the gravel road before me whose grey tones do not meet the fields of brown and green. Their color cuts off the landscape and now I am looking into a frame instead of reality. The blue sky and rugged countryside are too vivid to exist in such a context. And yet, the fields do exist here. Farmers sow wheat and barley and rye in the late spring and hope for the rain and sun with all their might. They wait for the rain like each of us waits for the love of our lives. Roads meet their dreams and they do not end there but continue to run on. They run into towns and cities and lands far beyond this farm, this land and this place. They run into you and me so that we might someday stop to see the hills and curves.

look and believe

look at the lilies
of the field

not even kings
in all their splendor
are dressed as these

if this is how
God
clothes
the grass of the field

which is here today
and tommorow is thrown in the flames

will he not much more clothe you?

O ye of little faith

So don't worry about your life
saying
what will i eat
and what will i wear
for those who are confused run after these things

for your heavenly father knows what you need
before
you ask Him

Have you no faith in God?
I tell you the truth,
you can say to this mountain:

"Move"
and it will happen
but you must believe

you can pray for anything
and if you believe you've recieved it
it will be yours

the rover has landed

jeg ar shliten.
I am exhausted.

pooped
unwound
re-wound
ready to fall into pieces
the fly has hit the fan
the rover has landed
weird thing is
i can't go to bed

not yet
one task remains
to place my knees on the cold floor
and hands on the warm bed
and give thanks

Study Trip

This past week (Oct 3rd-10th) I got a chance to travel with my fellow Landscape Architecture classmates through out North-Western Germany and the Netherlands. We stayed in Düsseldorf, Duisburg, Utretch, and Amsterdam. If you want to see some photos, you can use this link:

calpoly.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2126996&l=b96fa&id=6402915

and ones from Florence are on this one:

calpoly.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2119862&l=0a3c3&id=6402915

I'm so tired out from traveling that schoolwork is the least appetizing thing at the moment, but here I am in the midst of 4 classes. Thanks for all the emails and mail....I actually need to get back to studying Norwegian!!

untitled

back to tree
but to grass
face to the sun

my breath begins to slow
and heart stops skipping a beat

I look to see
leaves falling
cars crawling
and bikes parked
along the street
the skyline is lined
with trees of yellow brown green and grey
and the sky seems to say
this day

my delight

I'm siting down and wondering. What makes a good seat? this one is rather cold and somewhat uninviting. But I gace it a chance. I'm in Stavanger, western Norway and behind me cars and buses are on their way throughout the town. Infront is a pond that reminds me of the ocean, but produces none of the Cayucos Breeze. There are trees jutting out of a short hillside next to the calming waters. People pass by and speak a language I am beginning to understand. The ground beneath my feet reasures me that I am in the right place. And I begin to believe it. If a swan's quacking becamse speaking and a fountain's falling becamse music, would you hear it? If a tree asked you to reach up into the sky, would you climb its branches? Who knows what will happen tommorow, or today for that matter. What will it take for us to face this day, this swan, this fountain, this tree and answer it? If only for an instant I can answer the world around me. The anser may be unwelcome and unheard but it is all the truth I hold dear. Jesus lives. He breathes. The Holy Spirit convicts me to open my lips and sing His praise. I sing His praise to the swans in the lake as I draw them with my pen. I sing His praise to the fountain as I let the water fall between my fingers. I sing His praise to the trees as I climb their branches and I do not mind if anyone happens to hear. For my delight is in Christ.

ISU

Somehow.....I am now involved with the international student board oncampus as one of two social committee members. I'm actually kinda excited about promoting the rights of international students oncampus(like translation of documents into english) and also planning events for the campus community to integrate Norwegians with international students. Many of my friends are on the board....so it could end up being a blast. We have members from every continent of the globe except South America.

tree fall

Today I fell out of a tree
it sounds like an everyday occurance
but I can't remember the last time it happened
to me

I had just stopped off at the campus post
and picked up lovely letters from home
when i decided to climb the branches of an oblidging oak,
standing resolute in the midst of a wheat field

It was easy to surmount its branches
and delightful to sit and read
forgetting time and place
when I looked up I remembered
I had climbed a tree
and looked down to see
a great distance

The skyline was framed by the branches
and I wished my home could be in such a place
as this
but all good things must come to an end
so I began to descend

Fancy loafers are not the best for climbing trees
particularly when you are on your way down
I attempted to grasp a branch and swing to the ground below
but found my hands slip from their grasp
and I landed
plop

before I regained my bearings
I was laughing
who knew you could get wiplash from a tree fall
the rest is history

street after street

windows open
doors slam
the hum of scooters
and swaying of clothes
drying in the breeze

feet in a hurry
cameras galore
old Italian ladies
asking you to give up your seat

blue skies
gelato smiles
and street after street
art beyond your wildest dreams
and beautiful churches which feel
empty

because they are

until the monks begin to chant
and people sing
lifting up their eyes

music
opera
lights
hands on the piano keys
heart on its knees

I see
hundreds
thousands
millions of people
asking questions
without listening
for an answer

Chuga Chuga

On the train to Florence there is grafitti everywhere and it is hot. I met a nice Italian buisnessman on the plane from Norway. He said He would consider moving to California, except for the earthquakes. He plans to take his kids to drive across the states once they are old enough. Isn't life ironic? Here I am in Italy and here he is wishing He was in California.

The hand of providence must have been at work when I arrived at the airport, because I found the train 3 minutes before it left for Florence from Pisa, and the next was scheduled to arrive in 3-4 hours! I had planned to meet Alexa at 5 pm and wouldn't have made it.

I can understand now why someone once said Italy was the Mexico of Europe. It is hot, dirty and crowded. But, Italian villas are passing through my window and I do not mind the view.

doorbells

I've arrived in Florence and am settled in Alexa's apartment close to Piazza del Santa Croce. She is a good friend from Cal Poly studying at Florence University of the Arts. On the street, all you can see of her apartment is a green door with the number 73 next to it and 5 doorbells for the apartments on each floor. Her apartment is on the 4th floor, up a winding flight of stairs shared by all the tenants.

The streets are noisy and full of kamikazee mopeds. The sidewalks are 1-2 feet wide, just breadth enough to jump to and hope you survive. I would have been easily run over except for Alexa pulling my arm towards the sidewalk half a dozen times.

This city is beautiful. Breathtaking. When I arrived at the train station, I put on my backpack and walked across the city, stopping to soak it in along the way. The buildings are so tall, yet they feel just as they should be in proportion to me. There are arches, hundreds of statues, fountains, large squares and tiny streets. Mix that with thousands of tourists and you've got quite a mess. I wish you could experience everything but the stares of the Italian men......

no tomorrow

I'm on my way to Torp airport and Florence. There are alot of reasons I shouldn't be on this flight bus right now, but I made it and I can guess why. Travel mercies. Somebody is watching out for me.

The first train which left from Aus to Oslo departed at 5:35 am. Torp airport(in SW Norway) suggested I ride the Torp express bus leaving Oslo at 6:00 am. Unfortunately, I arrived at 6:03, on the earliest means of public transportation possible. This meant I had to catch the next bus leaving the Oslo terminal at 6:25 am. Unfortunately, there are multiple Oslo bus terminals and I assumed it was the one directly outside the train station.

Fortunately for me, when you ask enough Norwegians, you find one who can answer you in English. A kind man with a broken nose told me that I should walk in a certain direction at which point I began to run. Neadless to say, "un shul"(excuse me- in Norwegian) began to profusely spill out of my lips as I bolted towards the bus terminal. Up and down stairs and escalators, through doorways and into buildings....I managed to be the last passenger to board the Torp Express!

"One round trip student ticket" I said, out of breath. I'm not quite sure what will happen at the airport once I arrive an hour before my flight departs, but I do know that I'm learning to trust God when circumstances are outside my control....and to run like there is no tomorrow.

the bus we couldn't make

This past Saturday I traveled to Oslo from Aus with a group of friends. It was one mishap after the next. First we missed the train...because it didn't come at 830 as scheduled, but at 930am. Next, we couldn't find the IKEA bus stop at the train station in Oslo because it was under construction. We asked about half a dozen people and were without an answer until an hour later we saw a bus with four magic letters painted on its side. After shopping for the essentials at IKEA, we discovered the bus we would have taken back to Oslo left 5 min before we had been rung up at the checkout. After waiting in the store for an hour, we made it safely to Oslo and a pizza restraunt which served all its pizza's gleutin free!!! I was so excited, until I looked at the price ;). After walking the streets of Oslo, and running various errands...we realized our Train back to Aus left not immediately, but an hour and a half later than expected. Needless to say, the four of us developed quite a bit of patience in the course of one day!!

found

Your past present and future,
I’ve heard this all before.
But what does it have to do with this girl-
the one standing in front of me.
Can you be yourself?
Here?
Now?

What would it take
for you to snap out of this wonderland
Where no one can reach you?
You’ve become a lone soldier on a crusade.
But whose crusade?

Truth is good
To seek is to find
But when will you stop looking for yourself-
within yourself?
Or by what people see you to be?

We are found in HIM.

You know,

The one who seeks the lost

And comforts the broken hearted

His name is JESUS.

And He has found you-

So what are you waiting for?

Be found once again



I wrote this poem last December, but decided to post it now as I discovered it on my computer. I feel like life is a cycle of knowing who we are and then forgetting once again.

why

Norway.
I'm looking
out my balcony
and wondering
why
this place
this school
this life
why
do the clouds appear closer
the trees taller
and horizons furthur
than ever before
why peace
hope
joy
why here
why now
sometimes it is better
to end the questions
and accept no answer

Time stands still

I've arrived in Norway to discover that setting up internet is not as easy as one would expect it to be. I have also realized that living in a country whose first language isn't english means that your years of language education immediately go down the tiolet. I don't know quite how to describe this weeks experience. Sofar I have met students from France, Germany, Turkey, Italy, England, Poland, Eithiopia, Tanzania, Austria, Israel, California and Minnesota....just to name a few.

There are a total of 240 international students studying at UMB this fall. The campus boasts a wide variety of PHD, graduate and undergraduate programs in fields related to math and science; which means that students come to this campus to study anything they are most interested in. Many of the international students are on exchange for a semester or year or are here for a 2 year master's program. Everyone I have met sofar has a real sense of vocation, especially the African students here on scholorship programs. Their knowledge will be essential to their people's future once they return home. One lady which I met left her 1 year old baby boy to enter a 3 year PHD program here.

I hope to catch a little-bit of this vocational feaver and decide which areas of landscape architecture and planning intrigue me most by taking a variety of courses this next year. In addition, communicating with students who have lived in 3rd world countries may lead me towards what to do once I graduate ( which is coming sooner each day!).

This week was international student orientation and next week we have a one day orientation with our departments and begin our august block courses on teusday. Everything is begginging to become a blur, but as soon as I take the time to walk the Norwegian countryside time stands still.

the 24th

Its the 24th of July, and I leave for Norway in less than 2 weeks. AAAAAh!


I am so incredibly excited
I want to burst
and reform into someone new
and yet the same
whose horizons have expanded
and hopes begun again

twilight

It's my favorite time of day and I can't hold the words inside any longer. Twilight brings them out of me. As the outline of the trees becomes black and the night air cold and stiff, peace overwhelms me. There is some mysterious answer to all the world's questions which presents itself as the sky turns a deep, dark blue with the earth silhouetted against it. Shapes and forms void of color are reduced to there mere essence. Everything stills, if only for a moment, to say "it is time"; time for rest, time to lay down one's head, and time for the day's end and night's beginning. When the first star appears-Venus glimmering in the distance- I know that twilight has passed and I must wait for it once again.

Have you ever?

Have you ever really examined a leaf? Have you pushed it up to your nostrils until you were intoxicated by its smell? Have you wrapped it round your finger like a ring? I will tell my husband one day to find a ring which fits as snuggly as this leaf. Its veins press into my skin, slowing the circulation of blood, that I would feel their presence. The top side of this green ring is smooth, with a waxy cuticle to protect it from the sun. Below are soft, white hairs and holes which open and close to exchange the daily necessities. As I look into my hand, I wonder if I will ever be as efficient as this leaf is at collecting the sun's rays, converting them to energy, and bursting from the earth.

can it be?

Can it be that I went on a hike today up the Cuesta grade?
Can it be that the Black Sage was so yellow on the hillsides I mistook it for the sun?
Can it be exactly as I imagined?
Can it be that we climbed inside a dark, damp cave which had no end?
Can it be that Mimulus, Artemesia, Quercus, Laurus Nobilis, and Salvia all crossed our path?

Can it be as I felt it was?
Soft, warm, and real?

What is it about nature that speaks to me so? Why do I feel at once lost and found. Can it be my heart?

orange beings falling

Today someone flew into my car
just to say hello

I was driving back from class with
my windows all rolled down
as I noticed that orange beings
were falling from the sky
they rotated like the tops of helicopters
only to land on the asphalt below

I woundered at their courage
to leave the tree they once knew
to enter a world of motorvehicles

When I returned home, I noticed
that one of these celestial creatures
had landed on my passenger seat
Upon closer examination,
I discovered
the fuzzy orange hair on its top
and rough rhinocerous skin below
and in that instant I knew that
this 3 petaled seed capsule had burst
just to say hello

all the king's men

What is a trussel realy, but a bridge-one giant span that can bear the weight of a train. I long to be able to reach as far as this metal being can stretch its arms. It is folded into the hillsides of San Luis like you are folded into my heart. Can you hear the train coming as the creatures begin to stir? It cuts across the landscape like a knife. But who will eat the fragments which remain? Taste the fragmentation, invasive species, and topsoil erosion; What a feast! All the king's horses and all the king's men do no eat as well as this.

stained

Should we go upstairs?
the lovebirds leave
and I am left to my lonesome
in the room they no longer inhabit.
Who wants to be the unloved?
I brush it aside and swing open the back door
to sit on the step
which always oblidges.

We have one hodgepodge of a backyard
but I would still argue that it is a piece of nature
Ulmus Carpinifolia, our stately elm, sets the backdrop
as it changes with the seasons.

In winter, its leathery, textured bark is streaked white.
With the spring comes black rounded buds
which unfold into piano leaves by May.
These leaves play their music in the wind until November
when they slowly exhaust their tune to fall to the earth below.
Our yard is stained yellow brown and gold, if only for a season.

What is

What is nature, really?
What does it mean to escape to it?
The human being is confined in many ways.
Within
buildings
cars
airplanes
classrooms
we are categorized by
fields of study
ethnicity
birthplace
and philosophy
So many factors seek not merely to confine
but define us
At the end of the day,
What defines me?
Is it the clothing I wear?
the food I eat?
The people I interact with?
Or ultimately,
the things I say and do
the attitude I have?

A wise man once said,
"perspective is everything.
You can look at things as predicaments
or opportunities."

Getting back to my first question-
I think the answer is that nature is
the biggest opportunity of all.
but at the same time,
it is the largest predicament to those
without vision
It takes great stewardship to see how
our interaction with nature will ultimately
draw us out of the confines we have created
and into the beauty of things.

Whoosh

Thurp! Plop! Whoosh....
One CONTINUOUS stream
of water falling
sound, movement, light
without end

It is as if the rocks were bleeding
A giant god has squeezed them like cheese
and now the juices flow

Ripples meet one another
as the waterfall strikes
the stillness below

They permeate the surface of the pond,
giving it life
only as the circles meet the rocks
do they abruptly end

On My Shoulders

The Sun is on my shoulders
it asks to soothe me
to offer comfort

I do not turn to it in reply
but continue sitting with my back towards its light,
Basking

If I do not answer the sun,
will it continue to shine?
For how long will it give light and warmth
whilst I ignore its presence?

What type of recognition does it desire?
Should I bow before it?
Offer songs of praise?
Or does this great ball of fire merely
long to be my acquaintance?

How would we communicate
at such a great
distance?!

I have no light to reflect
in return for the sun's generosity
perhaps our relationship meant to be
one sided

Rays travel millions of miles
to caress my shoulders
their heat sinks into my skin
and I offer thanks to their source.

Patience

Have you any patience?
For I know a task that will surely do the trick.
Grow a tomato.
Not the type you buy ripe at Vons,
or the 3' plant from Home Depot.
Grow a tomato from seed.
It takes all the patience in the world
to wait fro the tiny seedlings to emerge and then
pick the stoutest to transplant
into the earth.
Then you must water is generously
at least twice a week until yellow blossoms appear
at the tips of the green
weeks later, little pea like tomatoes develop in the shriveled blooms.
They grow steadily until you begin to imagine they've turned red.
But not until the month of July are they ready,
nearly three months after you'd sown the seed.
The whole length of June, I am daily examining their hue.
Yes, to grow a tomato takes a world of patience.

flying

Kites.
Flying.
Soaring.
Reaching beyond
where anyone would believe they could.
They fill the sky like birds of flight,
each unique in shape and shade.
Some stand still as others sway back and forth
or swoop down to the eaerth and back to the heavens.

May 4th Square is delightful to behold.
Thousands of people stand and watch the kites soar
or take photos of the red sculpture at it's core.
Granite walkways weave through sycamores and fields of open lawn.
To experience this place is to experience culture, art, and life.
To have designed it is to have
created
a masterpiece.

on the bus

on the bus ride back to HD our driver is having a hayday!
Honking his horn as he passes those who switch lanes. It's beggining to unnerve me. All along the sides of the highway are cottonwood trees, rice fields, and terraced plantings. It is green as far as the eye can see. The world looks so different outside our yellow curtained windows.

I can see red tiled homes with clay walls and small towns surrounded by brick walls. If only our experience was not limited to the distance of our sight!

I breathe deep

Every bone within my body says
relax
take a breath
today is today
amidst papers and midterms
my mind doesn't seem to understand
it wants to continue to run
at a pace
I can't follow

Relax
says the wind
Relax
say the trees
you are only one small part of it all

I breathe deep
and relax

I look to the mountains

O Lord,
I look to the mountains
and know where my help comes from
Your majesty astounds me
compels me
and draws me near
For the hills sing of your steadfastness
and the rocks your faithfulness
and the water your joy

what hope have I greater than the hope I find in you?
What strength have I bolder than the strength I have in your arms?
What love have I deeper than what you have given me?
O Lord, what have I but you?

"Visitors" from Thoreau's Walden

"One inconvenience I sometimes experience in so small a house, the difficulty of getting to a sufficient distance from my guest when we begin to utter the big thoughts in big words. You want room for your thoughts to get into sailing trim and run a course or two before they make their port. The bullet of your thought must have overcome its lateral and ricochet motion and fallen into its last and steady course before it reaches the ear of the hearer, else it may plough out again through the side of his head. Also, our sentences want room to unfold and form their columns in the interval. Individuals, like nations, must have suitable broad and natural boundaries, even a considerable neutral ground, between them. I have found it a singular luxery to talk across my pond to a companion on the opposite side. In my house we were so near that we could not begin to hear, we could not speak low enough to be heard; as when you throw two stones into calm water so near that they break each other's undulations." (pg. 137-138)


The difficulty I find in conversation is how the distance between two people is ofen not large enough for the size of their heads. The smaller the room, the more likely they are to bump into one another. Like two babes in the womb, they grow untill you cannot converse with or even view your companion. Only be way of circling through the ambiotic fluid, may the message reach the listner's ear. It is most likely to be swallowed up in the darkness which exists between two people.

To truly listen, we must stand at a distance relative to the intensity of our words. I have repeatedly discovered the futility of having crucial discussions with your parents face to face. It is much easier accomplished over the phone. People need room to breath. It is a happy occasion when you find someone whose thoughts overlap with your own, so your ripples not only meet, but understand one another.

each and every one

Can one experience nature without ever hearing it?
Sitting on Dexter lawn blasting my IPOD,
I can smell nature.
The grass has a bitersweet scent
and the tree I lean against smells of wisdom lost long ago.

I can touch nature.
The bark is coarse like crocodile skin
while plants leaves are so soft they slip though my fingers.

I can taste it.
Although I wouldn't recommend nibling on chips of redwood
or downing blades of grass-unless you want to cause yourself to throw up!

I can see nature.
It's all around me.
The spectrum of color is so wide my eye happily bounces from one plant to the next.
Purple Grey Red Brown Black and Green tying everything together,
as if some Master Painter intended it that way.

As shadows dance upon my page,
I wonder how I thought sound was essential to experience
this lifeforce.
Afterall, it speaks to each
and every one of our senses.

Visitors

Thoreau's observations on speech begin to reach an understanding which questions not only hte purpose of our words, but the force of them. What does it take to be able to listen well?..to communicate well? In the end, is it all a loss? Such intimacy is expressed in words! We are so often frightened by them and desire to be far enough away to turn and run. In Walden, speech is described as bullets which once in flight may miss the ears of the intended. How can words have the potential for so much power and be rendered useless? If I was to execute all conversation as I intended to, what a different life this would be!

How

How can I be so close and yet so far
from what speaks to me most?

The chirping of birds is drowned out
by the hum of buses and the sliding of tires against asphalt.

I am enveloped by pine, oak, and earth,
yet it is unable to soak beneath my skin.
I cannot breathe the air of both nature and civilization at once.
Instead, I find myself gasping for breath,
hoping to cling to one world or the other.

so many languages

Chirp Chirp
Tweet
Kaca Kaca Kaca
bzzzzzzzzz
Ribit
I've never heard quite so many languages at once

Do they understand one another?
Do the birds responds to the chirps of the cricket?
are the frogs inspired by the ravens?
Who orchestrated this symphony?

I certainly didn't need a ticket to attend.
It didn't even have to be scheduled on my calender.

This music found me.
It's chorus seems to steadily repeat,

"Listen,
Put your heart at rest.
You are one of us!"

Beginnings

Why is it so impossible to begin?

To begin to
love
cry
listen
speak
or comprehend.

I've begun to realize that I like being stuck exactly where I was yesterday. It's easier that way. No challenge, change or frustration to face. No mountains to climb or valleys to forge. Yet, this song, this aria within me cries desperatly to be heard. When I reaxamine my heart I cannot keep my voice from singing. For the song has already begun.