Archive for the 'Atheism' Category

21
Apr
07

Lonely Moon

Another Mark Heard favorite.

Our world doesn’t offer hope, despite what they say. Without a God who is ever present, I think this would describe me. I am thankful that I am not an “orphan,” living “by the light of the lonely moon.”

LONELY MOON
by Mark Heard.

Was a child and a newcomer to the ways of the world
Eyes ablaze with the light of high noon
Just to love and to be loved was all he wanted
By the light of the lonely moon

They taught him to capture and tame wild pathos
Sold him distractions and made every day seem the same
Caught the Holy Ghost lurking in his cellar and threw Him out
Leaving just a lonely name

Soon they took everything that he lived for
So he asked them to please take his life too
They denied him existence but they let him live
In a lonely room

He would suckle at the bosom of Mother Earth
But his experience poisons that thought
He falls prey somehow
To the silence of the deep-space dark
Of this lonely blue rock

Now his path is lit only by the light of falling stars
The embers fall to scorch and cut his face
He wants to believe in his unbelief
In a lonely place

But they buried his conscience
Near to the grave of God
Sealed his soul up in a tomb of tears
And they scattered his ashes East of Eden someplace
On a lonely breeze

Was a child and a newcomer to the ways of the world
Eyes ablaze with the light of high noon
Just to love and to be loved was all he needed
By the light of the lonely moon
By the light of the lonely moon

26
Mar
07

Is it any Wonder

This is for my friend Danny, who has a thing for skulls, and Casey, who likes to dream. 😉

Mark Heard was ahead of his time and understood where our culture was headed. The video is obviously older, it’s from his 1987 album, iDeOLA: Tribal Opera. It’s a great commentary on a society based on the assumption of evolution and that there is no God.

IS IT ANY WONDER
by Mark Heard

“i had a dream, it was a mystery
i dreamed of science and of history
i dreamed that since we stood up out of the dust
we formed our words on lips of beauty and trust
i should’ve known better than that
i should’ve known better than that
everything looks different in the morning

is it any wonder
is it any wonder
is it any wonder we dare to live in our dreams
is it any wonder
is it any wonder
is it any wonder we scare ourselves with our screams

i had a dream, it was a comedy
i dreamed i made a documentary
i looked in closets for the skeleton bones
i found them empty save for measures of gold
i should’ve known better than that
i should’ve known better than that
everything looks different in the morning”

18
Mar
07

The Marvel

I’m reading a book by Donald T. Williams , Mere Humanity: G. K. Chesterton, C. S. Lewis, And J. R. R. Tolkien on the Human Condition. I’m enjoying it. It gives me a good reason to read about my three favorite authors. Dr. Williams has a poem before each chapter. Below is one that I liked.

Here’s the Marvel
by Donald T. Williams

Here’s the marvel; That the self-contained
And all sufficient triple Unity
Which for untold eternities had reigned
Complete in its own pure simplicity
Should will unnecessary worlds to be.
And yet his mind was steel, his purpose flint:
He struck off sparks of flaming ecstasy
And called the stars by name. The thing he meant?
To make his glory visible. He sent
Forth pulsing space-time-matter-energy
Which danced in pirouettes as on it went.
Just one thing more needed: eyes to see
And skin to feel, and mind to comprehend.
He called it Adam and there made an end.

09
Feb
07

we were meant for more!

“Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for these desires exists. A baby feels hunger; well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim; well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire; well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Bk. III, chap. 10, “Hope”

Bertrand Russell wrote,

“The centre of me is always and eternally a terrible pain – a curious wild pain – a searching for something beyond what the world contains.”

St Augustine wrote,

“You made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless till they rest in you.”

Blaise Pascal wrote in Pensees #425

“What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.”

What do you think, do you ever feel that there is more to this life?

09
Jan
07

The Orphans of God

THE ORPHANS OF GOD

by Mark Heard, From the album Satellite Sky

I will rise from my bed with a question again
As I work to inherit the restless wind
The view from my window is cold and obscene
I want to touch what my eyes haven’t seen

But they have packaged our virtue in cellulose dreams
And sold us the remnants ’til our pockets are clean
‘Til our hopes fall ’round our feet
Like the dust and dead leaves
And we end up looking like what we believe

We are soot-covered urchins running wild and unshod
We will always be remembered as the orphans of God
They will dig up these ruins and make flutes of our bones
And blow a hymn to the memory of the orphans of God

Like bees in a bottle we are flying at fate
Beating our wings against the walls of this place
Unaware that the struggle is the blood of the proof
In choosing to believe the unbelievable truth

But they have captured our siblings and rendered them mute
They’ve disputed our lineage and poisoned our roots
We have bought from the brokers who have broken their oaths
And we’re out on the streets with a lump in our throats

We are soot-covered urchins running wild and unshod
We will always be remembered as the orphans of God
They will dig up these ruins
And make flutes of our bones
And blow a hymn to the memory of the orphans of God