I don't really know where this whole thing came from. I mean, duh, I wrote it, but... it just came out of no where. I like it, it's sweet, but it's kind of long and unclear. I hope you can make out what I meant to get across.
Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from??
Where is the Neverland
where clockwork is born?
For, surely, if it came from...
it returns.
I must have missed a step
Because I don't remember these thorns here
All of a sudden the bells are ringing
And my path isn't clear
Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll from?
I want to find the heaven
where clockwork was born
I closed my eyes for far too long
These grew around my feet
I wasn't aboard the train to stop them
I blinked and missed the beat
The angels must be working over time
To wind the clockwork over my mistakes
I'll cling onto the hour until at last it tolls
For my failures now only greaten my aches.
I'll cling onto the hour until at last it tolls
For, surely, if it came from, it returns.
I'll ride it skyward to my only goals
To find the angels and their clockworks
Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from?
Where is the Clockmaker's home
where time itself is born?
Alas, I will not know
For the hour I clung to did not depart.
My feet are still planted here amongst the thorns
That one toll less hour still clung to my heart
I wanted to reach the heavens where the clock was born
I wanted to touch the very cloud on which the angels stand
I wanted to watch them crank the clockwork
and then to say in my smallest voice,
thank you. Thank you for winding the clock
Over my mistakes
But I must have missed a step
Because only is the hour quaking
It cannot carry me to the maker
So ease not yet my heavy aching
Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from?
Where is the heaven gold
where clockwork is born?
I thought for sure that if it was born
It would return to the bells when called
But the clockwork hour only stayed in my grasp
Turning, slowly, to the smallest prayer.
That clockwork hour that wasn't beckoned
By the tolling bells
Now turned in now for my smallest gain
To a child's prayer, in sky born's swells
All along I didn't need the bells out singing
All along I didn't need to hold an angel's hand
For all along time's sweet, sweet hour
Was an angel of itself
That's all I needed to sent a prayer,
But anything else wasn't worth it
My thank you wouldn't have reached to the Maker
If I had only clung to a minute.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Footprints
I'm just posting old stuff for the first coupla times, but right now I'm working on something. It doesn't have a title, but I chose Japanese names for the main characters, Monoko and Hiro ^^
Ugh. I forgot the tab button doesn't work in blogger... =P
Ryan squirmed under her bed covers. In a desperate attempt to gain mastery over her pillows, she tried to punch them into a comfortable shape. Her pale hair almost brown in the darkness, she refused to open her eyes, pushing her sleepless face into the now lumpy pillow. She tossed and turned for several more minutes before finally giving up and rolling out of bed. Not bothering to try the light switch (It was more often than not broken) she felt under her bed for her boots. Fingers finding contact, she pulled them out and retreated her head from under the bed.
“Ow!” Ryan rubbed the back of her head where it had hit the wooden bed frame when she raised her head to soon. Emerald green eyes sparkling with unbidden years, she stumbled out her bed room door, tugging on her still slightly damp boots from when she had shoveled the driveway. In the hallway, she reached past her father’s coat in the closet and grabbed her own.
Ryan was sorry she had taken her own coat instead of her dad’s thick, heavy one as soon as she stepped outside. It was snowing again. Wetness almost immediately soaked through her thin boots. Moonlight glittered over the stretching whiteness, its radiant but soft smile filling the whole night with irrepressible glory. Ryan, however, glared up at the pale, half moon. Sticking her tongue out as it, she thought, Stupid moon. Making everything seem so great. Snow is still snow! Still glowering, she stomped off the porch and onto the small path leading to the driveway, making deliberate footprints in the offending snow. Pausing to look at the effect of her prints tearing through the perfect white icing, Ryan grinned and veered away from the driveway. Leaving an incriminating trail of footprints, she trudged across the large, reaching yard to the bare tree fringe that surrounded the entire property. Stopping at the end of the wood, Ryan turned to gaze at the rapidly disappearing driveway. That’s what you get for living in the middle of no where. Your driveway does on forever. And I’ll have to shovel later! She thought despairingly.
Looking into the still forest muffled by snow, Ryan tried to remember why she had always been afraid to do in there. Ever since she was six. It was probably something her brother told her. But, still, that’s no reason to not go now, fourteen years old…
Her green eyes pierced the leafless branches, as if trying to see as far in as possible. Ryan because conscious that her breathing rate had increased. She rocked on the balls of her feet as if preparing herself for a leap.
“Today… kind of feels like the day,” Ryan said out loud. The day I’ll take the plunge. “Maybe that’s why I woke up… four hours before dawn. Like someone was leading me here.” Not just a boring bunch of trees – adventure!
“Maybe God.”
Ryan could have jumped ten feet if she hadn’t fallen over first. Standing a few feet to her left was a boy blonder than she. He seemed tall enough to be her age; Ryan traced his footprints with her eyes back to the forest. Maybe he was that neighbor half a mile down the road.
“Maybe Go – huh? Who are you?” Ryan couldn’t help sounding rude. I mean, he totally just snuck up on me!
“Maybe God was leading you here,” The boy said. Ryan looked at him contemptuously.
“Yeah, right.”
He said nothing more, only blinked, then turned back to the trees. Ryan say in the snow where she had fallen over for several more minutes, her pants getting wet, before slowly standing up and following her fading footprints back toward the house. Her encounter had crushed her spirit of adventure.
Ryan was panting by the time she was almost done with the driveway. She had already discarded her hat, scarf, and coat. Sweeping her wavy, pale blonde hair out of her eyes, she vaguely though it was good she wasn’t sweating, of her hair would probably be frozen. Her breath coming in puffs of air, she relaxed her grip on the shovel for a moment, randomly wondering if dragons breathed like this, too.
Her gaze wandered to the skeletal forest for the umpteenth time that day. Even though it had been three days since the morning she say “him”, Ryan hadn’t forgotten about wanting to do into the forest. She had been, however, avoiding it. Even now, at this distance, Ryan thought she could see the pale-haired boy watching her from the woods.
Ugh, how weird! But she couldn’t suppress the tiny shiver of pleasure – at least someone thought she was at least a little special. All she was told at home was to shovel the driveway. Ryan took the opportunity to stick her tongue out at the house, where she knew her parents were sitting warm and toasty. Sighing and hoping mom hadn’t drunk all the tea, she wrapped her fingers around the shovel and half heartedly pushed at the remaining slush. She stopped every now and then, however, sure she could feel the eyes (or at least the presence) of the boy – so much that, when she was finished, Ryan positively fled toward the house.
Dumping her coat, scarf, and hat on the landing, she striped off her gloves and walked, dripping, into the kitchen. Sitting down across from her Mother at the kitchen table, Ryan cupped her hands around the cup she knew was made for her. Carefully sipping the scalding tea, she attempted to read a flyer upside down. Her mother took long drinks from her own tea while sifting through the mail.
“We going to this?” Ryan asked, after sorting out the heading words to read “Christmas Pageant” and “on Christmas Eve and Christmas day”. Her mother looked up to see what Ryan was reading from.
“We need something to do Christmas day other than sit at home, right?” She asked, even though it wasn’t really a question. Ryan murmured something in consent and turned the paper to face her. Staring at the picture of a mother looking down at a child sleeping in a manger, she wondered if it was very nice – A Christmas story might be nice. She hadn’t been told stories since she was four.
Ryan was shoveling again. Hardly halfway done, she paused to wide her forehead and pull off her hat – this time she was sweating: the sun was hot and the snow heavy. Staring aimlessly about her as she tried to unleash the will to move on, she leaned on her shovel and stared down the driveway. Past the trees that circled the huge yard, she could see a sliver of the old road. Ryan could remember driving down that road when they first moved in. She was only six, but she recalled how they had missed the house and had to turn around in their neighbor’s driveway. The driveway of the pale-haired boy…
Ryan was staring at the woods again. It took several moments for her to realize it. Suddenly, she felt as if she couldn’t avoid the strange boy of the forest anymore. Slowly, she let her shovel drop onto her discarded hat and scarf and began making fresh footprints across the snow toward the trees.
When she reached the edge, the boy wasn’t there. Ryan tried to decided if the wanted to see him. Giving up, she continued forward (haltingly) into the woods. This snow, not often disturbed, crunched from the layer of frost on top. The trees seemed to reach down to her, laden with snow. Ryan gazed around at the simple serenity, picking out juniper bushes and frail mistletoe between the thin, icy, skeletal branches, when she came across a line of footprints. She vaguely followed them, assuming they were the boy’s. She was surprised that she hadn’t seen them sooner; after all, he had come to the edge of the forest to watch her for the past four days. Unless… the presence she had felt…
“Maybe… someone else… was watching me…” Ryan said quietly, her voice sounding plain and simple in the white forest.
“Maybe God.”
Ryan turned around three times before she found him. There he was, standing, strange and straight, the pale-haired boy.
“Maybe… God was watching me?”
“Yes.” His reply didn’t require anymore conversation. Ryan tried simultaneously to think of something to say and fathom that there might actually be God watching her – her struggle showed in her face and before she could come up with anything, he was gone. Ryan’s face slowly relaxed into confusion, and then she padded on.
The footprints lead to and from what seemed to be a central point in the woods. A flat, medium size and bright red painted rock lay at the point where the prints stopped. Ryan walked up to it and looked down on the stone for a moment before kneeling beside it and turning it over. Underneath, a small X was scratched into the frozen earth. Maybe the boy had a treasure here.
Ryan had only to scoop a small layer of dirt off with her gloves before revealing a smallish wooden box. Lifting it out, she read the words burned in side a heart.
She carefully lifted the lid off and set it beside her. Inside, a small, black leather book lay as if waiting. Unconscious that the blonde boy was watching her, Ryan took the book out and began to read aloud.
“‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…’”
Ugh. I forgot the tab button doesn't work in blogger... =P
Ryan squirmed under her bed covers. In a desperate attempt to gain mastery over her pillows, she tried to punch them into a comfortable shape. Her pale hair almost brown in the darkness, she refused to open her eyes, pushing her sleepless face into the now lumpy pillow. She tossed and turned for several more minutes before finally giving up and rolling out of bed. Not bothering to try the light switch (It was more often than not broken) she felt under her bed for her boots. Fingers finding contact, she pulled them out and retreated her head from under the bed.
“Ow!” Ryan rubbed the back of her head where it had hit the wooden bed frame when she raised her head to soon. Emerald green eyes sparkling with unbidden years, she stumbled out her bed room door, tugging on her still slightly damp boots from when she had shoveled the driveway. In the hallway, she reached past her father’s coat in the closet and grabbed her own.
Ryan was sorry she had taken her own coat instead of her dad’s thick, heavy one as soon as she stepped outside. It was snowing again. Wetness almost immediately soaked through her thin boots. Moonlight glittered over the stretching whiteness, its radiant but soft smile filling the whole night with irrepressible glory. Ryan, however, glared up at the pale, half moon. Sticking her tongue out as it, she thought, Stupid moon. Making everything seem so great. Snow is still snow! Still glowering, she stomped off the porch and onto the small path leading to the driveway, making deliberate footprints in the offending snow. Pausing to look at the effect of her prints tearing through the perfect white icing, Ryan grinned and veered away from the driveway. Leaving an incriminating trail of footprints, she trudged across the large, reaching yard to the bare tree fringe that surrounded the entire property. Stopping at the end of the wood, Ryan turned to gaze at the rapidly disappearing driveway. That’s what you get for living in the middle of no where. Your driveway does on forever. And I’ll have to shovel later! She thought despairingly.
Looking into the still forest muffled by snow, Ryan tried to remember why she had always been afraid to do in there. Ever since she was six. It was probably something her brother told her. But, still, that’s no reason to not go now, fourteen years old…
Her green eyes pierced the leafless branches, as if trying to see as far in as possible. Ryan because conscious that her breathing rate had increased. She rocked on the balls of her feet as if preparing herself for a leap.
“Today… kind of feels like the day,” Ryan said out loud. The day I’ll take the plunge. “Maybe that’s why I woke up… four hours before dawn. Like someone was leading me here.” Not just a boring bunch of trees – adventure!
“Maybe God.”
Ryan could have jumped ten feet if she hadn’t fallen over first. Standing a few feet to her left was a boy blonder than she. He seemed tall enough to be her age; Ryan traced his footprints with her eyes back to the forest. Maybe he was that neighbor half a mile down the road.
“Maybe Go – huh? Who are you?” Ryan couldn’t help sounding rude. I mean, he totally just snuck up on me!
“Maybe God was leading you here,” The boy said. Ryan looked at him contemptuously.
“Yeah, right.”
He said nothing more, only blinked, then turned back to the trees. Ryan say in the snow where she had fallen over for several more minutes, her pants getting wet, before slowly standing up and following her fading footprints back toward the house. Her encounter had crushed her spirit of adventure.
Ryan was panting by the time she was almost done with the driveway. She had already discarded her hat, scarf, and coat. Sweeping her wavy, pale blonde hair out of her eyes, she vaguely though it was good she wasn’t sweating, of her hair would probably be frozen. Her breath coming in puffs of air, she relaxed her grip on the shovel for a moment, randomly wondering if dragons breathed like this, too.
Her gaze wandered to the skeletal forest for the umpteenth time that day. Even though it had been three days since the morning she say “him”, Ryan hadn’t forgotten about wanting to do into the forest. She had been, however, avoiding it. Even now, at this distance, Ryan thought she could see the pale-haired boy watching her from the woods.
Ugh, how weird! But she couldn’t suppress the tiny shiver of pleasure – at least someone thought she was at least a little special. All she was told at home was to shovel the driveway. Ryan took the opportunity to stick her tongue out at the house, where she knew her parents were sitting warm and toasty. Sighing and hoping mom hadn’t drunk all the tea, she wrapped her fingers around the shovel and half heartedly pushed at the remaining slush. She stopped every now and then, however, sure she could feel the eyes (or at least the presence) of the boy – so much that, when she was finished, Ryan positively fled toward the house.
Dumping her coat, scarf, and hat on the landing, she striped off her gloves and walked, dripping, into the kitchen. Sitting down across from her Mother at the kitchen table, Ryan cupped her hands around the cup she knew was made for her. Carefully sipping the scalding tea, she attempted to read a flyer upside down. Her mother took long drinks from her own tea while sifting through the mail.
“We going to this?” Ryan asked, after sorting out the heading words to read “Christmas Pageant” and “on Christmas Eve and Christmas day”. Her mother looked up to see what Ryan was reading from.
“We need something to do Christmas day other than sit at home, right?” She asked, even though it wasn’t really a question. Ryan murmured something in consent and turned the paper to face her. Staring at the picture of a mother looking down at a child sleeping in a manger, she wondered if it was very nice – A Christmas story might be nice. She hadn’t been told stories since she was four.
Ryan was shoveling again. Hardly halfway done, she paused to wide her forehead and pull off her hat – this time she was sweating: the sun was hot and the snow heavy. Staring aimlessly about her as she tried to unleash the will to move on, she leaned on her shovel and stared down the driveway. Past the trees that circled the huge yard, she could see a sliver of the old road. Ryan could remember driving down that road when they first moved in. She was only six, but she recalled how they had missed the house and had to turn around in their neighbor’s driveway. The driveway of the pale-haired boy…
Ryan was staring at the woods again. It took several moments for her to realize it. Suddenly, she felt as if she couldn’t avoid the strange boy of the forest anymore. Slowly, she let her shovel drop onto her discarded hat and scarf and began making fresh footprints across the snow toward the trees.
When she reached the edge, the boy wasn’t there. Ryan tried to decided if the wanted to see him. Giving up, she continued forward (haltingly) into the woods. This snow, not often disturbed, crunched from the layer of frost on top. The trees seemed to reach down to her, laden with snow. Ryan gazed around at the simple serenity, picking out juniper bushes and frail mistletoe between the thin, icy, skeletal branches, when she came across a line of footprints. She vaguely followed them, assuming they were the boy’s. She was surprised that she hadn’t seen them sooner; after all, he had come to the edge of the forest to watch her for the past four days. Unless… the presence she had felt…
“Maybe… someone else… was watching me…” Ryan said quietly, her voice sounding plain and simple in the white forest.
“Maybe God.”
Ryan turned around three times before she found him. There he was, standing, strange and straight, the pale-haired boy.
“Maybe… God was watching me?”
“Yes.” His reply didn’t require anymore conversation. Ryan tried simultaneously to think of something to say and fathom that there might actually be God watching her – her struggle showed in her face and before she could come up with anything, he was gone. Ryan’s face slowly relaxed into confusion, and then she padded on.
The footprints lead to and from what seemed to be a central point in the woods. A flat, medium size and bright red painted rock lay at the point where the prints stopped. Ryan walked up to it and looked down on the stone for a moment before kneeling beside it and turning it over. Underneath, a small X was scratched into the frozen earth. Maybe the boy had a treasure here.
Ryan had only to scoop a small layer of dirt off with her gloves before revealing a smallish wooden box. Lifting it out, she read the words burned in side a heart.
'I will hide God’s word in my heart.'
She carefully lifted the lid off and set it beside her. Inside, a small, black leather book lay as if waiting. Unconscious that the blonde boy was watching her, Ryan took the book out and began to read aloud.
“‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…’”
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