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green pastures

soft meadows

trees shelter

wild flowers

sun shining

blue water

new summer

leaves growing


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This isn’t the first time you’ve done this

Disappointed me in my grief

This isn’t the first time you’ve brought me

To tears and to disbelief

But I will find from inside me

The strength to give praise to my God

For even from this, He can save me

Even from this, can bring good


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Sometimes, you lose a poem

It falls from your mind like drops of sunlight

Pouring molten into the next

At least, you pray, it’ll have a good rest


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we conquered cities

we stomped our feet

danced our war

to every beat

of our twin hearts

and no retreat

cry, my love

the taste is sweet


Today

Aug. 16th, 2017 08:51 pm
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I really need to get my exchange fic written. Odds are not good.


Wrote a poem:


we are tired

of the heavy places,

the deep tirades,

required graces,

every word

you ever spoke

from the day

my eyes awoke




Conlanging


I am hopelessly not up to the challenges, but I did do some work today. First, a word:


akuint • [ a.kui̯nt ] • 1. to sing, 2. to chant (a prayer or traditional song, particularly in a religious or formal ceremony), 3. to appease one more powerful with words, prayer, or song — verb


Then also, I figured out that Akachenti’s tendency to promote proximate, animate persons up a level may have come from originally have a proximate/distal distinction in second and third person pronouns and the agreement markers having merged. I’m not sure yet, but it seems more plausible than just willy nilly deciding that proximate third persons are really second persons, etc.


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Today, I remind myself

there is always cause to give thanks:

breath is in my lungs,

and I am alive to praise

the God who makes my heart

beat and gives me song

to carry me through the night

and days that are too long.


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Morning breaks the night

Dawn shatters in light

Hours passed like dreams

Nothing what it seems


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