Have you ever read something and wished you had been the one to write it? I have it quite often actually. I think this often because I’m reading all the time and well, I want to be a great writer, and … I’m not … or at least I haven’t put in any effort into becoming a great writer. 

I have two examples of things I’ve read in which after I heard or read them, I wished I was the one to put those words together — the one to craft those sentences.

The two examples I have are, well, phenomenal. One is a poem, a poem that I actually have a track of the author reading aloud … I wish so badly I could upload it right now (believe me, I’ve tried) … so before I upload the words, I’m including a picture of where you can BUY the track of this poem — it’s magnificent, believe me … it will be worth your $0.99.  Here’s how to order (click to enlarge).

alive-poem-screen-shot1

My friend, Kate, made a CD with her favorite songs and this was the last track … I heard it once and automatically put it on repeat. It is so beautiful that I just can’t get enough of it. It’s something that I’m hoping to memorize actually. 

Okay, so now that you’ve downloaded this (hint, hint), you can read along:

Alive, by Jonah Werner

Unbeknownst to you and me
Beyond the place of tyranny
There lies a love that holds us
In sure and constant watch
I pass the place of future crashing 
And far beyond the tongues and lashing
There lies a blaze that’s burning
Never to be drenched
When people live in love beyond themselves
Hearts betray this bitter world
There’s bound to be a breaking
But I can’t sweat for better yet
When all I have is manifest
In who I am, who I was, and what I’m not mistaking
But this is freedom, living and loving hard
When guarantees allude and char
And I can’t rest on human souls
Cause they’re unpractical and bruising
There has got to be more
There has got to be something deeper out there
And I hope that you look and you find
Because if people are being restored
Where vines and branches sever more
And never have I been so crazy
Kick the doors to free me
To say that I’m alive and I’m thriving still
I’ve lost my feet, but I won’t lose my will
You can hurt but you cannot kill the raging fires
Of a man whose been caught by human lies time after time
Who’s been soaked and choked and rung by compromise
Who was once dead, but is now alive.

 

The second example I have is by Donald Miller from his book, Through Painted Deserts. If you’re looking for a good, funny, inspiring book to read — this is a great one! I love his writing style and when I read this passage years ago, I remember stopping after I read it and saying, Wow, I wish I could write like that! … hope you feel the same way!

Chapter 15: Vegas (p. 143)
Through Painted Deserts, Donald Miller

Nevada has no ocean. You come over dune and dune and no water washes up on no shore. Las Vegas is an island of lights and trickery, and the desert laps against it on four sides. Trucks are ships, barges coming in from foreign continents, a subtle, odd reminder that some other kind of life exists, some sort of normality. Desert winds wash tourists up on casino shores to gawk at the natives, entertainers, gambling addicts, magicians and scantily dressed women, showmen who can’t sell albums anymore, vague memories of Elvis and Neil Diamond. It is an oasis for hard-luck cases who spend small fortunes on a shortcut to the American dream. P.T. Barnum, eat your heart out. This is a circus too heavy to travel. The show doesn’t come to the people; the people come to the show.

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