There was some oscillating, but I decided in the end that I would start with something new, rather than pick up where I left off in Livejournal a while ago. It was a dilemma of sorts - for is it not inimical to the idea of One Life Here Only, that one should record it in more than one journal or place? How would any other person be able to form a coherent picture of who one is (or was, if the journal was read at the end of one's life) if there were various journals lying around in different treehouses and parts of cyberspace? Afterall, there is One Book of Life, and when we are to give an account of ourselves at the Great Byma, how shall would one remember and tell one's own tale?
Of course, in the end, I decided to migrate. For the uncomplicated reasons that God knows my story and will tell it on my behalf at that time, and by all appearances, this looks like a more friendly place than Livejournal to post niblets of all kinds, for free. :)
But one shouldn't be surprised if parts of old journal entries (whether enscribed in byte or paper form) find themselves re-posted here. After all, the past could be worth reminding oneself of some times. Like this poem that was inspired during Thanksgiving in November 2003 (the Year of SARS and Other Things that have Happened).
Of course, in the end, I decided to migrate. For the uncomplicated reasons that God knows my story and will tell it on my behalf at that time, and by all appearances, this looks like a more friendly place than Livejournal to post niblets of all kinds, for free. :)
But one shouldn't be surprised if parts of old journal entries (whether enscribed in byte or paper form) find themselves re-posted here. After all, the past could be worth reminding oneself of some times. Like this poem that was inspired during Thanksgiving in November 2003 (the Year of SARS and Other Things that have Happened).
We walk this city of lights
And see not the Light above
A symphony of light dancing
Above the ferry berths
Beams across the night sky
Splashes of colour in dark water
Glorious, shining, and silent
As our unsung praises
The autumn breeze nudges gently
Into the harbour, soothing,
Bringing, into the mind
Pictures of joy and sorrow
Tales of cheer and trouble
Each picture and tale a blessing
To hold and remember Goodness
In the year that has just passed by
But such symphony of light should raise
A symphony of loud praise
For while lost hearts can still hear us
We ought to make each tale a note
Of joyous, great thanksgiving
Each testimony and story a sound
Of music we are living...
And so our song shall rise and grow
As days and months bring another autumn
And the lights this time shall dance to
A grand Thankgiving chorus.
(Photo by Mitten Crab)
