So I wrote a couple of poems to God this morning, but unfortunately have nothing to share with the blogging world tonight.
It gets worse, too. I don't even have anything to say about my day. I went to class and work and class and it drizzled every time I stepped outside and I never saw the sun. We got to make Matcha, Japanese powdered green tea, in Japanese class today, but that was the most extraordinary thing that happened.
It seems like a good day to share this poem called Lesson 1 by Julie Alger:
Life doesn't have to be
all poetry and roses. Life
can be bus rides, gritty sidewalks,
electric bills, dishwashing,
chapped lips, dull stubby pencils
with the erasers chewed off,
cheap radios played too loud,
the rank smell of stale coffee![[--]](http://www.julie-hill-alger.com/line.gif)
yet still glow
with the inner fire of an opal,
still taste like honey.
It gets worse, too. I don't even have anything to say about my day. I went to class and work and class and it drizzled every time I stepped outside and I never saw the sun. We got to make Matcha, Japanese powdered green tea, in Japanese class today, but that was the most extraordinary thing that happened.
It seems like a good day to share this poem called Lesson 1 by Julie Alger:
Lesson 1
At least I've learned this much:Life doesn't have to be
all poetry and roses. Life
can be bus rides, gritty sidewalks,
electric bills, dishwashing,
chapped lips, dull stubby pencils
with the erasers chewed off,
cheap radios played too loud,
the rank smell of stale coffee
yet still glow
with the inner fire of an opal,
still taste like honey.
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