Dream on......

The other night I was sulking about my dream to be at the beach. I'm dying to escape this hot stupid desert! In the beginning of the year, my simple wish to my husband was to go to the beach for my birthday (in August) since there was a high chance of him finally being home for it. My amazing hard-working husband has never been home for my birthday all the years I've known him (almost 6 years...~sigh~). His work demands him to be out of town or out of state most of the summers. But he's always done sweet things to try to make up for it. He's given me beautiful diamonds...sapphires... and now all I really want is to see are diamonds in the mid-summer night sky and sapphires twinkling across an endless sea of blue. Alas, those dreams are now washed away in my stubborn brainwaves, while hopeful notions are still surfacing.

I've wanted so badly to duplicate a picture of my 15 month-old girl on the beach just like the one I have of myself, which I love. My husband laughs at how badly I want that picture of her on the beach and has teased me saying, "I'll take you to the wash, there's plenty of sand," since we do live in a massive sand box. Hardy-har har... my husband has such a witty raw sense of humor, but I do love that about him.

When I first asked him my birthday wish, he gave the hopeful response of making it seem like a huge possibity. (((UNTiL))) the passing of the Arizona Immigration Bill (S.B. 1070) passed and California decided to boycott Arizona, thus causing my husband to boycott California! (he was already not fond of the state, in which I grew up, for various reasons, hah!). Which means, I don't get my birthday wish. ~sniff~pout~sniff~. And I don't think we can go to a different state just to go to the beach because I don't think my little one could handle that long of a car trip. But I do understand why my husband feels that way (we both support the bill strongly and Cali should too since they need it as well). And even if he did decide to make my wish come true, we couldn't go because he's working out of town and won't be home until the day after my birthday (which is the closest yet). So yet again, he's not going to be home on my actual birthday. :::LAME:::

Meanwhile, I've been focusing on my current project, which is finally painting my room into a soothing zen-like hideaway. So once it's complete, I will just have to settle with closing my eyes and listening to a recording of waves crashing onto shore (peppy chagrin).

I found this photo of how I've imagined my night at the beach and the guy that took this picture wrote this amazing poem. I love to write and read poetry so I had to post this as well.

The Curse Did Not Come Upon Saturn

The Curse did not come upon Saturn,
Nor cover the planets and stars-
But came to the earth like the lightning
That signals the start of a storm.

It blanketed beautiful valleys
Built in creation’s fire-
Then moved ‘cross the hills
In a torrent-
Which in rapid, recession-retired.

Hating the heart of the future-
Despising all hope and desire-
Erasing eons of dreaming,
With planning and patience conspired.

To bring captivity captive-
To worship a fallen king-
To drain the last drop,
Of life and light-
To crush creativity.

Such serpentine monstrosity,
Will never be wrought again.
Plans will unfold,
But missing their mark,
Will cease to be brought
To an end.

The ignorant souls
Of the dancers-
That danced with the
Sword and the wheel-
And plowed in the fields
Of the broken-
Will never be heard from
Again.

Deceivers will flourish
And be no more.
Liars will all pass away.
Death and destruction
Will struggle and strain-
Then fail at the force
Of the flame.

The heavens are still
Rejoicing.
The stars in their glory
Still sing.
Repeating the strain,
Of original song-
Etched in aged memory.

Clothed in magnificent
Color-
Reveling in royal plans.
Revealing from the beginning-
The art of the Master’s hands.

As servants new, now recreate-
Envision inhabited lands.
By suffering tried, have spoken
The word-
And left their trail in the sand.

And passing beyond the physical door-
Now come to a heavenly land.
Where monuments new of faith reside-
And sacred spirits stand.

A city of golden glory-
Where day and night descend-
In the light of the great Creator-
Whose promise will never end.

Time itself will flicker and fade,
The fire of the universe wane-
Providence then will have
the last word.-
And truth once more
Fall like rain.

Poem & Photo By James Watkins