Mountain of Stones

 Tiia Monto [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], from Wikimedia Commons
Tiia Monto [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

The sorrow of my heart cries out to the deep

In the darkness, in the shadows, I weep

Hopeless and torn

Broken and worn

I feel my world crumbling around me

 

Tired is my mind, tired is my soul

Spiraling down into a black hole

Weariness seeps into my bones

Carried around like a mountain of stones

 

They weigh on my being

All joy fleeing

Emptiness encroaching

Hopelessness approaching

 

But in all the despair and despondence

There’s a light that breaks the night

Through the clouds of daily worry

There’s a wind blowing new air

Blasting away the thunderhead

Breaking away the smothering smog

 

The radiance of the sun lights up the valley

It chases away the shadows of anguish

It brings new life to the weariness of my soul

It soothes away the woes of my mind

 

The sun, my light

The wind, my kite

Blessing my heart

Making me soar

 

The Son, you are my light

The Lord, you are my wind

Speaking through love of those around

Toppling down the mountain of stones

And lifting up my weary bones

 

To be filled and merry

Hopeful and airy


War Is Our Future (War Is Our Past)


Blood ridden battles of strife and pain

Don’t call out for truth in vain

You, you war-hardened men!

But truth

It won’t survive scrutiny

And the lying, cowering cowards

They will cower under the power of safety

The illusion of constancy and peace.

Fools!

War is our future

For war is our past

There is no peace in the present

Look around you!

There is blood on your footsteps

And blood on your skin

Don’t try to wash it off!

It will be there regardless

Your flesh burns of self hate

Why?

You are human

A mere mortal for immortal’s games

Given the pearl of power

The only power controllable by men

Fear and violence


I Was No More

 Fading Away by Pain of the Fallen
Fading Away by Pain of the Fallen

A path I saw

Among the raindrops

As they fell down from the crying stars.

The moon smiled

At his children’s joy

Playing in their heavenly pool.

The sun came and looked down at me

Its eyes were shady

The mouth sorrowfully wavy.

Its tears dropped on my forehead

They were painful.

Ice shards broke wounds

On my body

In my body

In my mind

In my soul.

The sky saw right through me

I was invisible.

The wind blew right through me

I was no more.


Quote of the Day: What Is Truth?

Furthermore, truth is anything that corresponds to reality. Truth doesn’t yield to the size and the strength of the latest lobby group. Truth isn’t a matter of preference or opinion. Rather, truth is true even if everyone denies it, just as a lie is a lie if everyone affirms it.

Finally, truth is essential to a realistic worldview. When sophistry, sensationalism, and superstition attack truth, our view of reality becomes seriously skewed. The death of truth spells the death of civilization. However, as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn once said, ‘One word of truth outweighs the entire world.’

— Hank Hanegraaff, The Bible Answer Book for Students (2007), p. 74-75

sophistry

def. subtly deceptive reasoning or argumentation

sensationalism

def. 1empiricism that limits experience as a source of knowledge to sensation or sense perceptions, 2the use or effect of sensational subject matter or treatment

superstition

def. 1a a belief or practice resulting from ignorance, fear of the unknown, trust in magic or chance, or a false conception of causation, b an irrational abject attitude of mind toward the supernatural, nature, or God resulting from superstition, 2a notion maintained despite evidence to the contrary


I Did It! (Original in Finnish: Mä tein sen!)

Originally published in Finnish local newspaper Salon Seudun Sanomat on 13th of March 2010, written for a writing competition on their weekly youth page with the title “I Did It!”


It was a normal, grey and cold morning. It greeted me with drizzle and mist that spread over my home valley like an oppressive blanket. The landscape that I viewed from the bus stop resembled my state of mind.

I have suffered from depression for three years. Today my depression was at its peak as it was the anniversary of my sister’s death.

You see, exactly three years ago Jonna had gotten her driver’s license. She had gotten me from basketball practice and had been driving me home when a car had sped around the corner driving on the wrong side of the road. The driver had been drunk, my sister’s classmate. Jonna had tried to evade the approaching vehicle, but it had collided with her car head on.

My next memory was from the hospital. My gaze had immediately focused on my parents who had been standing at the end of my bed silent, worldless.

When I had been released from the hospital, I had sat in a wheelchair. As we had come home, my parents had taken me to the dining room table. They did this when they wanted to be serious. We usually ate at the bar stools by the kitchen island.

“Josifine”, my father had began. “Jonna didn’t survive the accident.”

I remember how I completely broke. Nobody knew how to heal the open wound in my heart. Not my friends who tried to comfort. Not my psychiatrist whom I met every Monday at 6 pm. I stopped playing basketball, my only goal in life.

In high school there were the normal exams, classes, teachers, students. It was the beginning of the beginning of spring during my first year in high school. Many had already found their place in the high school world, but not me. My own friends were attending different schools, and the teachers worried over me, as per usual.

On the anniversary of Jonna’s death I even contemplated suicide. My depression was the worst it had ever been. I nursed my grief in the school library, alone. I skipped all my classes, because normal life had driven me insane.

Midday I was approached by a girl who played in the school basketball team. She attended many of the same voluntary classes as I did.

“Hi”, she greeted and didn’t know how to continue.

“Hi”, I answered. “My name is Josifine.”

“My name’s Helena”, the girl responded nervously. “Your friend Francis is my cousin. She told me about you and how you used to love basketball.”

“And how’s Frances?” I asked nonchalantly.

“She’s good”, Helena answered. “Listen, would you like to come and play basketball on our team? Or at least try. It could be therapeutic or somethin.”

“Don’t know”, I said.

“You should come and watch”, the girl encouraged. “We have practice today.”

Then she left.

When school was over I was about to go home when something inside me compelled me to go watch the basketball team practice. For some reason, it felt like the prompt was from my sister.

I sat watching the talented players, but I realised that they’re game strategy was off. Again, Jonna pushed me to intervene. Before I knew it, I realised I was standing and gesturing for Helena to come to me. She did so with an energised smile on her face.

“You came!” she exclaimed happily.

“Yea, I did”, I answered and swept my hair from my face. “Listen, you’re playing all wrong.”

She listened to my explanation, and then called her teammates to us. They were impressed.

“Hey, join us”, one of the girls requested.

“I don’t know”, I said retreating back into my shell. “I don’t even have any gear.”

“I have extra”, Helena volunteered and lead me to the changing rooms.

I dressed and began playing. My grief disappeared in the moment of the play and I realised how much I had missed playing.


I had been voted team captain. We were playing against the toughest team in Finland in the finals for the championship. Our opponents had won the championship for the last couple of years.

We were neck in neck. Helena passed me the ball. The field under the opponent’s basket was oddly empty. We got a point right when the bell rang to signal the end of the game.

As Helena had expected, my depression had disappeared and my grief diminished slowly overtime.

Now, as I was lifted onto the shoulders of my teammates holding the prize, as always when I was playing, I felt the presence of my sister in the audience watching me with a smile.


Mä tein sen!

Julkaistu Salon Seudun Sanomissa 2010-03-13


Oli tavallinen, harmaa ja kylmä aamu. Se tervehti minua tihkusateella ja sumulla, joka levittäytyi kotilaaksoni ylle painostavana peittona. Maisema, jota katselin bussipysäkiltä, muistutti paljon omaa mielentilaani.

Olin kärsinyt masennuksesta jo kolme vuotta. Tänään masennukseni oli huipussaan, koska oli sisareni kuoleman vuosipäivä.

Tasan kolme vuotta sitten Jonna oli saanut ajokortin. Hän oli ajanut minua kotiin korisharkoista, kun kulman takaa oli kaahannut auto, jota oli ajanut kännissä oleva Jonnan luokkalainen. Kuski oli ajanut väärällä puolella tietä, ja vaikka Jonna oli yrittänyt väistää, auto oli osunut suoraan Jonnan auton nokkaan.

Seuraava muistoni oli sairaalasta. Katseeni oli heti kohdistunut vanhempiini, jotka olivat seisseet vuoteeni vieressä hiljaisina puhumatta sanaakaan.

Päästessäni sairaalasta, olin istunut pyörätuolissa. Tullessamme kotiin, vanhempani olivat vieneet minut ruokapöydän ääreen. He tekivät niin halutessaan kertoa jotain vakavaa. Yleensä söimme baarituoleilla, jotka olivat keittiösaaren vieressä.

– Josifine, isä oli aloittanut. – Jonna ei selvinnyt onnettomuudesta.

Muistan, kuinka murruin täysin. Kukaan ei osannut parantaa sydämeeni avautunutta haavaa. Eivät ystäväni, jotka yrittivät lohduttaa. Ei psykiatri, jota näin joka maanantai klo. 18:00. Lopetin koripallon, elämäni ainoan tavoitteen.

Lukiossa oli tavalliset kokeet, tunnit, opettajat, oppilaat. Oli alkukevät, ja kävin lukion ensimmäistä. Monet olivat jo löytäneet paikkansa lukion maailmasta, mutta minä en. Omat ystäväni olivat muissa lukioissa. Opettajat olivat huolissaan minusta kuten tavallisesti.

Jonnan kuoleman vuosipäivänä harkitsin jopa itsemurhaa. Masennukseni oli pahempi kuin koskaan ennen. Haudoin murheitani lukion kirjaston yksinäisyydessä. Lintsasin kaikki tunnit, sillä tavallinen elämä oli ajanut minut hulluuteen.

Keskipäivällä minua lähestyi lukion koripallojoukkueessa pelaava tyttö, joka kävi useilla samoilla vapaavalintaisilla kursseilla kuin minäkin.

– Moi, tyttö sanoi, eikä oikein osannut jatkaa.

– Hei, minä vastasin. – Mun nimi on Josifine.

– Mun nimi on Helena, tyttö vastasi hermostuneesti.

– Sun kaveri Fanni on mun serkku. Se kertos mulle sun vaikeuksista, ja kuinka sä joskus rakastit korista.

– Ja mites Fanni? kysyin välinpitämättömästi.

– Hyvinhän se, Helena vastasi. – Kuule, haluaisit sä tulla pelaamaan korista meidän joukkueeseen? Ees kokeilemaan. Se vois olla terapeuttista tai jotai.

– En mä tiedä, vastasin.

– Tuu ees kattoo, tyttö kehotti. – Meillä on harkat tänään.

Sitten hän lähti.

Koulun loputtua meinasin lähteä kotiin, mutta jokin sisälläni pakotti minut katsomaan koripallojoukkueen harjoituksia. Jostain syystä se tuntui Jonnan kehoitukselta. Istuin katsomassa meidän lukion taitavia pelaajia. Totesin kuitenkin heidän pelaavan väärällä strategialla. Jonna kehotti minua neuvomaan. Huomasin nousevani seisomaan kehottaen Helenaa tulemaan. Helena tulikin vauhdilla pirteä hymy kasvoillaan.

– Sä tulit! hän huusi iloisesti.

– Joo, niin tulin, vastasin ja huitaisin hiukset kasvoiltani. – Kuule, te pelaatte ihan väriin.

Kuultuaan selitykseni Helena kutsui joukkuetoverinsa koolle. He olivat ihmeissään.

– Hei, tuu säki pelaamaan, pyysi yksi joukkueen tytöistä.

– En mä oikein tiiä, vastasin piiloutuen taas kuoreeni. – Ei mulla oo ees pelivarusteita.

– Mulla on ylimääräiset, Helena sanoi ja johdatti minut pukuhuoneisiin.

Puin pelivarusteet ylleni ja aloitin pelaamisen. Huoleni katosivat ja huomasin, kuinka kovasti olin kaivannut pelaamista.


Minut oli äänestetty joukkueen kapteeniksi. Pelasimme Suomen kovinta joukkuetta vastaan Suomen mestaruudesta. Vastustajat olivat voittaneet mestaruuden viime vuosina.

Helena syötti minulle pallon. Kenttä vastapuolen korin alla oli ihmeellisen tyhjä. Saimme pisteen juuri, kun kello soi päättymisen merkiksi. Kuten Helena oli sanonut, masennukseni oli haihtunut pikkuhiljaa ja aina pelatessani tunsin Jonnan katselevan yleisöstä minua hymy kasvoillaan.


Copper Leaf

The song of copper leaves

Dreams such as these

Bronzed by hope

Yellowed by light

 

The song of copper leaves

Falls into the eaves

A century passes by

A thousand years float by

 

The song of copper leaves

Is heard in the trees

As the wind plays through the branches

And the copper leaf dances

 

It sings about its happiness

It sings about its mourning

It dances out its sadness

It gestures for you to follow

 

Up and down

Spiralling

Ducking

Flying

Leaping

Across the sky and closing on the land

 

Follow the leaf as it dances, dances

Follow the leaf as it sings in you

The leaf is your coppery dream

The leaf is the dream that lights your way