Volume Two: Snippets & Thoughts

In which we discus knowledge, and fall into beautiful worlds

Introduction

In some place Paul says, let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ - conversation not referring to the words that come out of our mouths, but to the conduct and content of our lives. This broad, multifaceted use of the term ‘conversation’ puts a spotlight and a judgmental eye on all of our affairs. Our words in many ways define us - we speak about what we love and what we hate. We don’t tend to speak of that which falls in between. We go to parties and then come home at night replaying all of our talk, stressing over what was said and what that says about us. Conversation as Paul uses it refers to life in its fullness - and the connotations we naturally associate with the term push us into a corner with the age-old phrase, actions speak louder than words (or just as loudly). Your life is like one large monologue in a play. It’s as sharp and pointed as words, as exposed and looked on as a soliloquist on stage. Everybody can see it, everybody can judge it. Neil Postman says in Amusing Ourselves to Death; “all culture is a conversation or, more precisely, a corporation of conversations”. If all culture is a conversation, then consider what America’s conversation says about the individuals, (you and I), who keep up that dialectic. Heated politics, irreverent, degraded humor, the lack of ability to focus on anything for more than a few minutes, and the obsession with laughter at all costs. This is America’s conversation - if you and I blindly, tolerantly accept it, this is our conversation. These are, in a sense, the very words that come out of our own mouths. Perhaps that’s why you’re here, reading this issue. Perhaps you’re here to absorb a few beautiful things from others' conversations into your own conversation... There is brokenness everywhere, in every life, in every conversation, in every bit of content we choose between in this world - but some is better than others. Perhaps Socrates was right; perhaps when the mind and soul are lifted up to greater, more beautiful things, our shoulder blades will turn into wings, and we’ll find a piece of heaven in the clouds.

But how would I know? You’ll have to find out for yourself.

Photo by Joe Yates on Unsplash

Contents

1. Homecoming, by Cora R. Bowen

2. The Missing, by Romana Stewart

3. Untitled Poem, by Asher Orr

4. Knowledge, by C. E. Larke

Biographical Notes

In Cora’s words, I’m a dreamer of the dawn, who’s been writing most of my life. You can find her blog here and her Instagram here.

Romana Stewart is an author seeking to glorify God with her work and is a wonderful poet. You can find more of her work at her blog, Romana Stewart; Historian of Worlds.

Asher Orr is a writer from Oregon state, inspired by nature and philosophy such as Dostoyevsky and Ecclesiastes. He’s also a talented poet, bringing a brilliant piece to this volume.

C. E. Larke is soon to be published in a short story anthology, and can always be found with a cup of tea. You can find her blog and support her work here.

“All unreality is weakness as well as irksomeness; and the sooner that we are stripped of unreality the better, both for peace and for usefulness.”

(The Everlasting Righteousness, Horatius Bonar)

Photo by Henry Be on Unsplash

1. Homecoming, by Cora R. Bowen

Gently, whispers the forest. Watch where you step. The frozen ground has been cracked, broken. See the blades of grass. They are pale and few. The rest of the wood will follow their lead.

Do you hear the river sing? She is free, awake, dancing along the stones underneath her racing waves. Crystaline patches of snow melt before the coming wildflowers. Snowdrops and spring beauties, Siberian squill and waves of false buttercup, trout lily, trillium, bluebells and bloodroot. Splashes of color speckled across the canvas.

Look up through the spreading leaves of the trees. Let them run sylvan, rippling aureoles over your hands. Let the sun's rays reach down, let them reach your forehead, pool down over your face, your hair. Let the sun warm your shoulders, your arms, your heart. Let the lights fill you and satisfy your stomach. Winter is over, the endless dark has run into the earth through cracks in the stone. It is gone; it is spring.

Step with me into summer. The thistle and the chicory, cornflowers and bright roses reach out, say hello, and guide us down the road.

Do you see the house, now? We're almost there. I can hear music. The dancing has started. They're laying the table for supper.

We missed you, while you were sailing. The winter seas are harsh. We're glad you're back. Welcome home.

Photo by Anton Shcherbakov on Unsplash

2. The Missing, by Romana Stewart

Here I sit on the other side of bliss,

and the missing is so strong.

Stories and adventures have been gathered,

friends have all drawn near,

but time and life demand normalcy now,

and the missing is so strong.

---

Dancing now swirls to a memory’s tune,

spin, clap, toss, and bow…

Swords go flashing as I spin, dodge, or slash;

weight and balance still singing.

Friends swarm and ebb with joyful greetings,

then cluster and drift in tearful farewells,

and the missing is so strong.

---

The missing wraps like shrouds of time,

swirling in waves of grief.

Though not a person is dying or gone,

longing continues to cling,

and though one day we’ll all meet again,

this missing is so strong.

Just let time continue, flow on by,

this pain will ebb away.

But still, this feeling does belong.

The missing is here to stay.

Photo by nulo on Unsplash

3. Untitled Poem, by Asher Orr

I screech, I croak, I cry out in the stars.

Reflecting in the snow and pond of ours.

We cease to sing as wood breaks duckweed leaves.

A figure rows, his mournful wisdom shows.

---

I suddenly know that in time, I will die!

I look in his eyes and they’re greater than I!

Forever I’ll occupy meaningless life!

We stay here while croaking and numbing our minds!

---

My brain becomes foggy, and I realize,

The visions, now blurry, are starting to die.

I wonder why.

My kind to the side of me don’t seem to mind.

It wades its blades and passes us by.

I screech, I croak, I join the cries.

---

A sigh, a prayer, a breath of fresh air.

At last, I have given up worries and cares.

They screech, they croak, they sing happ’ly below.

I know reflecting in the pond…

Is where I shall go.

Photo by JRAMAN JCHANDRAN on Unsplash

4. Knowledge, by C. E. Larke

What do you think of when you hear that word? Maybe you think of school or education. Maybe you think of someone you know who knows a random fact for every occasion. Or maybe your mind goes to something deeper.

For all of history, the desire for knowledge has driven mankind. It was the pursuit of philosophers and the driving force behind scientific discoveries. Cults formed in ancient Greece, centered around the promise of secret knowledge, and even as far back in human history as we can go, it was from eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil that led to the fall of mankind.

Most people have heard the cliche “Curiosity killed the cat,” and in a sense, it’s true. We can be too curious for our own good. But that doesn’t mean curiosity in and of itself is a bad thing. I believe it’s part of human nature to want to know about the world we live in. That’s clear from the moment a toddler is old enough to talk and start answering every word from his or her parents with the dreaded “Why?” Sometimes it looks like that curiosity about life wears off as we grow up, but I don’t think it really does. It just becomes more specialized. Instead of asking “Why?” about everything, we started asking it about specific things we’re interested in. The desire to know never goes away, we just apply it to different things.

Now of course, there are definitely things that are harmful to know. There’s a reason that certain topics get people concerned looks when they say they’re interested in them. When we say, “curiosity killed the cat,” we mean that curiosity put the cat into needless danger—like crossing a road in front of a car to find out what was on the other side. That’s where wisdom comes in: knowing what to do with the information we do have, so that we know how to act and how to stay out of dangerous situations.

Something I’ve wondered for a long time is this: what is the difference between knowledge and wisdom? I’ve explored this idea through writing, and have had lots of conversations about it. The simple answer is that knowledge is simply information, and wisdom is knowing how to apply that knowledge. And I think it definitely takes wisdom to know what to do with all the information the world throws at us every day.

Living in this day and age, it’s never been easier to learn. Our time has been titled the Information Age, and rightly so. When I was younger, I would make fun of my dad because when someone asked him a question he didn’t know the answer to, he wasn’t satisfied to say, “I don’t know.” He would always pull out his phone, google the question, and then give the person the answer. I thought it was the funniest thing…until I started doing the exact same thing. In my friend group, if someone has a random question that nobody knows the answer to, I’m going to be the one trying to find it, because I can’t go without knowing.

Knowledge about anything and everything is available, right at our fingertips. As a writer, it’s extremely helpful. I would be lost if I had to research without the help of technology.

But other times, I can’t help but wonder if having information so readily available is actually a good thing.

How often do we blindly trust Google or Chat GPT or something someone posted on social media, without bothering to think through it? I remember when I was in high school, I’d get so frustrated that I had to go through each step of a math problem, showing my work and then doing a proof, instead of just “doing the problem,” getting an answer, and moving on. But here’s the thing: now that I’m out of school and don’t have to show my work anymore, I’ve forgotten a lot of the processes. I don’t think I could do a proof to save my life. If we make habits of taking shortcuts, then we forget how to do the very thing we were shortcutting.

I think the same principle applies to technology. I’m not against technology in any way (though I do have my concerns about AI). But because we have the ability to type something into a search engine and find out the answer immediately, we’re losing the ability to think for ourselves. If we don’t go through the process of learning, will the knowledge really stick?

Or even if it does, what do we do with it? We might know things, but have we gained any wisdom? Do we use it in a way that helps and builds up, or for the sake of our own pride as we flaunt what we “know” in other people’s faces? Social media is proof that the internet brings out the worst in people — we take our newfound knowledge without questioning whether it’s actually accurate and post it for everyone to see, convinced that we’re right and not caring if we offend anyone in the process.

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding.”

~Proverbs 9:10

In the end, the knowledge that really matters is the knowledge that comes from God. And that’s a knowledge that doesn’t come from Google, social media, or any kind of artificial intelligence. On the contrary, it comes from the greatest Intelligence, the God who created all intellect… In the end, knowledge isn’t the end goal. The greatest desire should be for the One who gives wisdom to any who ask.

Photo by Sam Albury on Unsplash

I so love to scribble on the pages.

A fresh conversation atop one long since written.

(The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Vol. 3)

A Final Note…

Thank you for reading. Thank you for taking time to enjoy the talent of these wonderful authors. As a final note, I’d like to announce that ASSW is now open for submissions. If you have a blog, or even friends and family who write, please restack/pass this on. You can find the submission guidelines here. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

~ Janelle Ekpo, Editor