A very good friend of mine told me that as a person, I was okay but a bit high-strung. I can’t help it. I am emotional about everything.
I remember one spring, going out into the garden and planting a bunch of flowers hoping to see them blossom some time before the end of the summer. I waited and waited, but nothing. Until this one day in August, out of all the things I’d planted, one beautiful sunflower stood tall facing the sun. I couldn’t help but to shed tears because my work was not for nothing.
I would consider myself to be an emotional person; maybe a little too emotional. I cried the first time I had a performance with a band on stage for the simple fact that someone gave me the opportunity. I cried when the youth choir I direct ministered with just two choir members present and did God’s work faithfully, holding nothing back. I cried when I ran for the bus, caught it and found an empty seat. I cried watching the season finale of “ER” when Dr. Weaver was in the operating room and the resident got his heart beating again. I cry when I’m angry. I cry when I’m upset. I cry when I’m annoyed. I cry after arguments. I cry when I can’t sleep. And I cry every time I think about love simply because I love and I love it.
Love is weird. I can’t define it by meaning but I know what I feel inside. But I know that is more than a physical thing and it is not sex. And so, it stays on my mind and rests there as if it was a lingering visitor. I think about it and often times I think so much that I carry it over in my spoken word, vocalizing, and actions.
I have to admit; I admire. I appreciate. I regret. I doubt. I fear. And often times I can be pessimistic. I know where I am but I think about where I should be. I think about my past and then I look at my present. But as long as you can look back and learn a lesson, there can be a positive effect associated with it. I carry so much in my mind sometimes that I can’t help but think; I do so much. I feel so much. Incredible people are not so simple. We come with a lot. J
Take a glimpse at Michael Jackson. He was a man with a lot of issues. People often looked more at his life than what it is he was known for: the beauty of his talent. Nobody can deny that they did not enjoy the talent of the icon. He was the greatest entertainer to have shared his art with the world. If it wasn’t for his defining career moments, he would never have had so many die-hard fans. But often times when people see a legend, they forget that these people are also human beings.
From coast to coast, he was a topic of conversation from the moment he set foot in the public eye, until the day of his death and thereafter. He was incredibly talented. He gave high quality performances that made history. Especially when he did big free productions that got over a ten thousand people scurrying to get one of the open standing room only slots available. I bet you those people who got in were exceeding with joy and those who didn’t were probably not the happiest campers.
People loved what they heard. Michael Jackson made some beautiful music. And so, my word of the day today is pulchritudinous. Pulchritudinous is an adjective that means physically beautiful; beautiful; beauty. The sunflower in my garden was the epitome of pulchritude. I loved the site of it. I smiled as if I were one with the sun when I saw it. But flowers bloom and last only but a while until they wilt, like people. Michael Jackson’s career was successful and his art was beautiful. While Pollyannaish thoughts can turn grey skies into blue, memories of his pulchritudinous art that he leaves behind is something to rejoice and be glad about. He was a legend and his legacy lives on. RIP Michael Jackson. I pray that you are safe in the arms of Jesus.
Word of the Day: Pulchritudinous
Perhaps it was the locked eye moments of his inner beam that dug deep within.
Upheaved the sudden desire to get acquainted one-on-one, without even asking.
Life has never been the same since it crept in and took over my body.
Changes I’ve been going through with all the thoughts that sit there in my lobby.
Hope was all I had to weave this web of silk that I wanted to claim the suitor.
Revolutionized a little girl that wanted to fly in to the impossible dream’s picture.
Interest drew these friends to more than friends to taking love at chance.
Too much time spent rehearsing to perfect the Michel Jackson dance.
Understanding was the treasure I found when his song awakened revelations.
Drama queen with high strung beams got calmed by I Love You Too Productions®.
I sometimes wonder the worth of all this treasure that I hold in hand.
Now all I do is crave the time, touch, feel and sound of that chartered land.
Oh yes! Michael Jackson’s music played to my heart that is abysmal.
Until today, I hope for my world to collide with I Love You® equal.
So pulchritudinous would it be, from coast to coast that which I hope; to be his febrile.
© Stephanie Jeannot