Happiness is this Odd Feeling in My Stomach

Happiness is this odd feeling in my stomach.
Some call it butterflies. I don't.
It's more than butterflies. It's less.
It's neither light nor heavy. It doesn't move yet is not stable.
Warm and cold cannot describe it's temperature.
It's more than a feeling. It's

A piercing feeling. I know that eyes can see. Will see. See me.
The gaze is there. I can reach out and grab it with my two hands and make a snowball.
But I'm not here for a snowball fight. I'm here for something else. Something better.

The beat. On beat. Up beat. Down beat.
I can almost feel the beat with my heart.
Getting faster and faster.

A slight wisp of warmth shines on me now.
Coming from spotlights. Mounted high.
This whim in my stomach grows.Tickles the inside.
Expanding like a balloon.

Up and down I bounce. I bounce on the balls of my feet.
Back and forth. Up and down.
Trying to shake this balloon. This growing tickle out of my stomach.
It helps.

Something scratches against my skin. A costume.
Usually cotton or wool costumes. Costumes meant to depict villagers from Russia
From Ukraine, Scotland or Columbia. From Romania, Switzerland or America.
The costume infuses the air with a starch-sweat smell.
The kind of sweat smell you smell after playing football or soccer.
The scent of victory. Of pride. Of effort.
The costume also infuses me with a sense of dignity and respect. A higher calling than just being a normal kid.

The beats speed up. My heart sings along.
My stomach jumps to one side.
The music crashes. My fingers twitch the song.
Now the tickling melts down. Down to the bottom.
The intro comes. Five, six, seven, eight.

I step into view. On beat. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.
I smile, though my stomach now weighs heavily.
Heavy enough to ache my legs to shake. To wobble.
Yet I still smile.

Leaping now. The breeze under my arms and legs.
Jump right. Spin left. Pause.
Leap run run. Leap through the brisk air.
On beat. Up beat. Down beat.

I smile.
I present. Throwing my arms open for the world to see. For the gaze to feel me.
I notice the audience for the first time now. Hundreds of them.
Thousands maybe. But maybe my mind is playing tricks.
My stomach suddenly lurches upward. Playfully. Frighteningly. Joyfully.
The feeling in my stomach is my stomach. My stomach is the feeling.
The feeling is green. No blue. Blue with a tint of yellow.

Right foot. Left foot. Left foot. Right foot.
My mind oblivious to my body. My body following its choreography perfectly.
Just like we practiced. Rehearsed. Rehearsed hundreds of times earlier.

My focus swings away from my stomach. My odd feeling.
On beat. Up beat. Down beat.
And to my presentation. To the audience. To the kids in the left side of the third row.
They're smiling. I'm smiling.
My heart takes courage as I bound higher than before. Dance smoother. Walk brighter.

I can feel it now. The appreciation. The adoration. The admiration. Of the crowd.
The joy I help them feel is tangible. It fuels my blood. My muscles. My soul.
It is the product of this feeling I get in my stomach.
These "butterflies," if you will, are a precursor to the more wonderful product.

Applause.

The music is finished. The beating has stopped. My heart has stopped.
The warmth slowly fades away. The sweaty starch smell surrounds me.
I am swimming now in not only the gaze of hundreds,
But the thunder of clapping hands. The more wonderful product.

Applause.

The audible sign of other's enjoyment. Other's enjoyment by my dance.
Other's smiles from my actions. From my practice.
From me.

Happiness is that odd feeling in my stomach.

Thoughts of Naught

I oft think of dreaming.

Amid the galaxy of mind

Float my dreams,

Concepts

Questions

Beyond thought.

Understood

Answered

By all

And by none.

How can dreaming

Make the unknown

And non-existent

Normal?

Then why can’t my mind,

Being normal,

Comprehend the nothingness of

Nothing?

How can I think or dream

Without life, or thought

If all ends with naught?

What would I think?

Why must I think?

How did my being

Come into being

If that which exists not

Has no thought?

Though, what

Confuses the confused

The wise, the great and small

Is thinking of never ever

Truly existing at all.

Yet, here and now

I think,

Therefore I am.

So I pray and seek

That I will dream

To forever think.           

One of the Blind I Am Not

One of the blind, I am not.

I limp not nor do I faint

No evil spirit in or out

Neither am I ill or sick

My skin is whole and well

My loved ones and I, alive

I can speak and write and tell.

Yea, my wrong tis not notable

But one who heals is here

Giving sight to all who sees not,

Strengthening the lame with care

Freeing the souls from devils and demons

Healing both leper and the sick

Giving life to those who sleep

Putting words in mouths sealed thick

Even opening the long closed ears

How can I dare attempt to try

To ask His help for me

How would He even hear my cry

To heal my heart from this scar

I weep no, but pain I feel

A commandment I’ve transgressed

The penalty and hurt is real

But, outwards tis unseen

My sin boils within my heart

Oh, how my soul longs for freedom

From guilt, and anguish for a start

This endless torment and torture

I wish oh wish He’d come

I wish He’d rid me of this

But alas, He’s too busy for one

And alas there’s too many to heal

Why would he waste time on me?

What would it prove?

How could he even make me free?

But who would and could?

He stops, and, looks my way

I cannot believe it

He comes to me to say:

“My son, know ye who am I?”

My soul jumps with this thought

So I reply with all my being

“Thou art He, the son of God

And I am unworthy in thy presence

But, please I ask of you, if thou wilt

Save me from what ails me

Remove from me this small pain and guilt

But if not, heal those with greater need.”

He smiles and reaches out his hand

I grasp his as he explains

“My son, I say t thee, stand

for thou has faith and hope and charity

Though ye may not be blind

            Nor lame

                        Nor possessed

                                    Nor sick

                                                Nor leper

                                                            Nor dead

                                                                        Nor mute

Ye have been found in greater need than these

Therefore thy faith hath made thee whole

And thy sins are forgiven thee

Be of good cheer, and sin no more”

Tear upon tear, full of gladness

My heart is healed and whole

Empty of anguish and now guiltless

Thanks to my Lord on High

He healed me, He heals me, and He will always heal me

For He is my Savior and my Lord and my Healer

He healed me.

Is My Faith Strong Enough?

The road has been rough

Full of temptations tough.

With sun and wickedness

To repentance and gladness

Being born in the church

And, early, learning the word

With borrowed faith and light

I follow trying to choose the right

I hope someday along the road

I might develop faith of my own

With a grand conversion story

Of how I found my testimony.

But alas my story differs

From that of a convert

Who knows the difference

And has an amazing experience

Because others besides me fell away

Is why I tremble here today

“Is my faith strong enough?

Do I have the needed love?”

I don’t even remember

When I became a member

Or why, with my father

Did I enter the water

But here I am, look at me

My faith was a borrowed seed

Slowly growing within me

And now it’s an enormous tree

I know this to be true

Not just for me, but for you

We may not be the lost sheep

Or even the humble or the meek

But if we do our best

Putting our faith to the test

With or without an experience

The Lord will make up the difference

So now let us together comprehend

This is how to endure to the end

Oh, Do I Wish I Were Special

Oh, do I wish I were special

Full of wonderful talents

So that I might be recognized.

In this, I would be thankful.

I wish I were an Olympic runner

Passing my opponents and fears

Until I become the victor

With this, life would be better.

I wish I were the smartest,

Needing no schoolwork

To figure out the worlds problems

With this, from work I could rest.

I wish I could be another Mozart

Playing my sorrows and cares away

Making millions with my music

With this, joy would enter my heart.

I wish I were playing for the NFL

Where everyone would know my name

Because of a 100 yard touchdown

With this, all would be well.

But I forget to realize

I need not to win the gold medal

I need not to ace all my tests

I need not to write a masterpiece or two

I need not to wear a pro jersey

I need not these things … to be special

I have my own talents and strengths

That makes me, the unique me

In this, I am eternally grateful.

Ready to Play

A boy, full of hope,

Asked coach Ray;

“Can I suit up?

I want to play!”

The coach smiled

And looked at his paper.

“See here kid,

You’re on the roster”

The boy leaped for joy

And ran back home

So happy, this little boy,

That he told his mom,

“It was like a dream,

It’s such a great day.

I’m on the team,

I will go and play!”

A game rolled along

His stomach wrenched,

But the time was wrong

From he sat the bench.

The next one soon came

He cheered loud and hard,

No play time this game.

But he asked with all his heart;

“I’ve been feeling low,

What must I say?

Let me in coach,

I’m ready to play!"

Coach then told him,

“I’m truly sorry,

You’ll get to go in

Don’t you worry.”

Games three and four,

Both came and went.

The boy’s team scores

While he warms the bench.

Wearing the ninety-two

He’ll ask all day

“Let me show you,

I’m ready to play!”

The boy doesn’t give up,

He persists again.

The coach looks up

And begins to grin.

The season’s almost over,

The last game begins

The coach walks over

And lifts the boy’s chin,

“We’re down by one,

This is the last play.

Get in there son!

You’re ready to play.”

Hope in Success

HOPE is courageously waking up everyday.

COURAGE is in a wisely prepared mind.

WISDOM is through worn scriptures diligently used.

DILIGENCE is in tired but loving shoes.

LOVE is through confident hands of service.

CONFIDENCE is in a determined “will you.”

DETERMINATION is in sore but strong knuckles.

STRENGTH is through joyful feeble knees.

JOY is through successfully serving.

SUCCESS is in the black nametag.