There was something showing in the depths of his eyes, evident despite their murky color. Something that made her pulse begin to thump more rapidly, but not out of any kind of desire. What was flowing through her veins was pure, unadulterated fear now, almost as intense as the deranged reverence showing in his gaze. She stepped back, and he stepped forward.
Reverence. I began to think. I knew that word. It meant. ummm. I forgot it. Can I have the definition please? No you may not. Um R. E. V. E. R. E. N. C. E. Reverence. I finally got it. I won the speeling bee.
As I looked into her eyes, I realized why people treated her with the highest respect. It was as if I was filled with a reverence towards her so strong, I had to fight the urge to bow and murmur apologies at her feet.
he held back with reverence at the work he had done. but i swung my fist straight into the painting. the canvas held little resistance under my furious attack
Her breath caught in her throat, stuck there for a long moment before releasing a sigh of awe. Nothing had ever seemed so beautiful, so brilliant. How often did one see something so wonderful? She wondered.
I looked at him and watched as he smiled brightly. His eyes always sparkled when he talked about his passions. I wonder, do I look like that when I speak? Do people look at me this way?
No importa cuanto estuviera ahi de pie. No importa si esperaba. Nada había que fuese a cambiar. Lo único que importaba era la mirada de reverencia con la que, estoicamente, observaba la ventana.
He’d take her hand like a prayer, reverently and delicately. He was always too afraid that she would break. She was always too afraid that she’d fall apart anyway.
I hold it in esteem, not a dream
A sound judgment is what I seek
There is no doubt
Only right
Kept in the light
Some think a holy might
Don’t be contrite
Simple thought with nothing wrought
With a quiet unlike I had ever heard, the normally boisterous group of middle school boys were silent. They were struck speechless as they entered that hallowed place. Standing at the back of the filled auditorium, I watched as most of them reached up to wipe tears from their eyes.
I like to think that I’d done all I could, but perhaps it was not enough. Regardless, it was over, and we were opening our shoulders to the world, pointing our feet through satin and canvas shoes, gliding slowly, regally, across the floor in time with the music flowing from the glossy yet tired-looking piano. With what seemed my last breath, I curtsied to the examiners, the pianist, the small audience. The final note from the piano died away. There was a moment of silence, as if to remember a death. Perhaps a death had, indeed, just occurred.
looking upwards to the sky i see stars and i realize i am small. i’m aware of what’s brought me here. humility fills me up like a heavy purple jug. i bow. i stare at the ground. i smell nothing because i am nothing without my reverence. theres a small room.
The wadded-up tissues on the plate were a gourmet meal. She carried them with purpose to the waste bin and tossed them in before depositing the plate into the sink. She gazed out the window. Her sister was sick and there was nothing that would stop her from caring for her. She looked to be in a trance for those few seconds, staring into the nothing, as I watched her with reverence. No one in my family lifted a finger for me when I was sick and her dedication left me feeling empty, wondering if anyone would ever care for me that way one day.
They held the book in a special reverence, as it was the only link back to their origin. Only the oldest among them knew what it said, and even they could only read portions of it. So it was quite a shock to the community when the travelers arrived with a dozen copies, all clean and new.
You should have reverence for things that deserve it. But not all things deserver reverence. What makes something worthy of reverence? Something that should be revered is a very rare thing and I wonder how many people revere anything at all.
difference is words served on a plate
genius broken and works unspoken
reverence for gods and never the thought of it
lost in a crowd like i’m lost in a space
and never too much it’s never enough
all the love that’s a crutch and love is too tough.
She was on her kneew, the folds in her skirt making creases in her legs. The sun-washed figure in front of her stood still, mocking her pleading with its stony indifference. She bowed down again, forehead touching the floor. All she could think was, Please let her live—don’t leave me all alone.
Again and again she di this, hoping and praying, for if her sister was gone, she would be all alone.
I had no reverence for the minister who stood behind the pulpit preaching. I knew things about him that I shouldn’t. Things that no one else knew. Things that would remove him from that pulpit and put him in jail.
Reverence is such an amazing word. I think of the reverence I have for the Savior, all he did for us, His mission and example. I have reverence for other things too. The earth espeically. Today I saw so many incredible pictures Iwanted to take after the huge downpour we had.
The blue smoke from the incense hangs in the air as a hazy veil. I never paid much attention to what the choir was chanting – I was too busy thinking about how tired my legs were, and how much I wanted to sit down. Still, I can’t approach the rituals of my past with anything less than reverence, however distant.
I hold the President in high esteem. Reverence. No, he doesn’t do everything right, he’s made some mistakes that he’s admitted to (such as the failed rollout of the ACA), and although I don’t support every decision he makes I’d rather have him in office than that man from Texas that put this country in a unnecessary war.
I don’t know what this word means and it truly annoys me. I like to know words, they fascinate me. Imagine. Weird shapes come together. They create communication. We understand each other by sending and recieving these shapes. And I don’t understand them, therfore I can’t communicate. This scares me.
With reverence, he pulled the blanket up and over her face letting it fall gently to curve along the peaks and valleys of her face. He held the blanket, not wanting to let it go until his brother, Stan, silently removed his hands from the edges of the cloth. Ushering him toward the door, his brother looked back at the table and Dane saw a look on Stan’s face he had never seen before.
there was a certain reverence
with the way she cleaned her tools.
he asked who wielded who
and she glanced at the metal in her hands.
when people worship,
it’s with their hands
and blood.
He looked over his fathers shoulder, small hands grasping the dinosaur toy. His eyes glistened as the brush in his father’s hand obeyed his every command.
is in my heart when I think about God and all He’s blessed me with. silence is reverence at times, full of poignant memories, makes me happy, and content.
The reverence he showed as he handled the weapon showed his fear of violence. Raymond had never been touched by violence or death, so he couldn’t possibly understand how to perform in this way.
Reverence is what i feel about my parents and teachers and any thing that inspires me and makes me wanna be a better person. Smell of rain, ice cream cone, a grateful smile are all small, teeny bits of it.
The crowd looked at me with an awkward reverence, their eyes never leaving my exposed hands as I stood in the middle of the lake. It was as if they had experienced a baptism in the aftermath of a rebirth – all I had merely done was bring a confused young boy back to shore because he had followed his dog into the water and could not swim.
As I slogged my way back to solid ground, I noticed as my white shirt seemed longer and dragged behind me like a robe. I assumed that such an occurrence did not dissuade the audience from a Christian-like image.
Reverence? Absolutely nothing comes to mind with “reverence.” I have a “reverence” for the word “reverence” but absolutely no use for it. I do not revere. I do revere, but not in the mood I’m in right now. Fuck you, reverence. That’s what I have to say about reverence. This is a bad start to this exercise. Apparently now I must write more, because I did not follow instructions. So far I do not have reverence for this website. I wish I had a clearer definition of reverence… I don’t know exactly whether I know exactly what it is. Which makes writing about it more difficult.
eren looks up from beneath endless lashes as he slides levi’s boot off, slow and careful, as if the milky skin would break if he moved too quickly, as if the moment would be over if he moved too quickly. he runs his hand down the underside of the man’s calf and stops only to cup the ball of his foot, thumb tracing the dent of his ankle with a reverent touch.
with an air of piety, i recovered the tiny object from that old, red shoebox. i hadn’t looked at it for at least five years, and yet here it was. a simple white box, containing a simple white cylindric plastic container. a gift from my sister. soap bubbles. it had been more than just an act of humoring my odd knack for collecting soap bubble containers – she’d given me her blessing.
There was something showing in the depths of his eyes, evident despite their murky color. Something that made her pulse begin to thump more rapidly, but not out of any kind of desire. What was flowing through her veins was pure, unadulterated fear now, almost as intense as the deranged reverence showing in his gaze. She stepped back, and he stepped forward.
Reverence. I began to think. I knew that word. It meant. ummm. I forgot it. Can I have the definition please? No you may not. Um R. E. V. E. R. E. N. C. E. Reverence. I finally got it. I won the speeling bee.
As we lie in bed, heads down and eyes shut. I can hear your reverence for me as you pray yourself to sleep. Goodnight.
As I looked into her eyes, I realized why people treated her with the highest respect. It was as if I was filled with a reverence towards her so strong, I had to fight the urge to bow and murmur apologies at her feet.
This word sucked.
Emma laid in bed whimpering. My reverence for her cry. How she almost died.
he held back with reverence at the work he had done. but i swung my fist straight into the painting. the canvas held little resistance under my furious attack
Her breath caught in her throat, stuck there for a long moment before releasing a sigh of awe. Nothing had ever seemed so beautiful, so brilliant. How often did one see something so wonderful? She wondered.
I looked at him and watched as he smiled brightly. His eyes always sparkled when he talked about his passions. I wonder, do I look like that when I speak? Do people look at me this way?
Shimmering eyes meet cruel hearts disguised by soaring rhetoric; hopeful eyes meet callow hearts bolstered by patriotic fervor; haunted eyes meet battered hearts desensitized by war.
No importa cuanto estuviera ahi de pie. No importa si esperaba. Nada había que fuese a cambiar. Lo único que importaba era la mirada de reverencia con la que, estoicamente, observaba la ventana.
He’d take her hand like a prayer, reverently and delicately. He was always too afraid that she would break. She was always too afraid that she’d fall apart anyway.
I hold it in esteem, not a dream
A sound judgment is what I seek
There is no doubt
Only right
Kept in the light
Some think a holy might
Don’t be contrite
Simple thought with nothing wrought
With a quiet unlike I had ever heard, the normally boisterous group of middle school boys were silent. They were struck speechless as they entered that hallowed place. Standing at the back of the filled auditorium, I watched as most of them reached up to wipe tears from their eyes.
I like to think that I’d done all I could, but perhaps it was not enough. Regardless, it was over, and we were opening our shoulders to the world, pointing our feet through satin and canvas shoes, gliding slowly, regally, across the floor in time with the music flowing from the glossy yet tired-looking piano. With what seemed my last breath, I curtsied to the examiners, the pianist, the small audience. The final note from the piano died away. There was a moment of silence, as if to remember a death. Perhaps a death had, indeed, just occurred.
looking upwards to the sky i see stars and i realize i am small. i’m aware of what’s brought me here. humility fills me up like a heavy purple jug. i bow. i stare at the ground. i smell nothing because i am nothing without my reverence. theres a small room.
She bowed her head in reverence as her father blessed her and sprinkled her with holy water.
The wadded-up tissues on the plate were a gourmet meal. She carried them with purpose to the waste bin and tossed them in before depositing the plate into the sink. She gazed out the window. Her sister was sick and there was nothing that would stop her from caring for her. She looked to be in a trance for those few seconds, staring into the nothing, as I watched her with reverence. No one in my family lifted a finger for me when I was sick and her dedication left me feeling empty, wondering if anyone would ever care for me that way one day.
They held the book in a special reverence, as it was the only link back to their origin. Only the oldest among them knew what it said, and even they could only read portions of it. So it was quite a shock to the community when the travelers arrived with a dozen copies, all clean and new.
You should have reverence for things that deserve it. But not all things deserver reverence. What makes something worthy of reverence? Something that should be revered is a very rare thing and I wonder how many people revere anything at all.
difference is words served on a plate
genius broken and works unspoken
reverence for gods and never the thought of it
lost in a crowd like i’m lost in a space
and never too much it’s never enough
all the love that’s a crutch and love is too tough.
She knelt in quiet prayer. The bowl of stewed meat was warm, its thick steam weaved through the cold air toward her. Thank you, she thought.
She was on her kneew, the folds in her skirt making creases in her legs. The sun-washed figure in front of her stood still, mocking her pleading with its stony indifference. She bowed down again, forehead touching the floor. All she could think was, Please let her live—don’t leave me all alone.
Again and again she di this, hoping and praying, for if her sister was gone, she would be all alone.
I had no reverence for the minister who stood behind the pulpit preaching. I knew things about him that I shouldn’t. Things that no one else knew. Things that would remove him from that pulpit and put him in jail.
Reverence is such an amazing word. I think of the reverence I have for the Savior, all he did for us, His mission and example. I have reverence for other things too. The earth espeically. Today I saw so many incredible pictures Iwanted to take after the huge downpour we had.
The blue smoke from the incense hangs in the air as a hazy veil. I never paid much attention to what the choir was chanting – I was too busy thinking about how tired my legs were, and how much I wanted to sit down. Still, I can’t approach the rituals of my past with anything less than reverence, however distant.
I hold the President in high esteem. Reverence. No, he doesn’t do everything right, he’s made some mistakes that he’s admitted to (such as the failed rollout of the ACA), and although I don’t support every decision he makes I’d rather have him in office than that man from Texas that put this country in a unnecessary war.
I don’t know what this word means and it truly annoys me. I like to know words, they fascinate me. Imagine. Weird shapes come together. They create communication. We understand each other by sending and recieving these shapes. And I don’t understand them, therfore I can’t communicate. This scares me.
With reverence, he pulled the blanket up and over her face letting it fall gently to curve along the peaks and valleys of her face. He held the blanket, not wanting to let it go until his brother, Stan, silently removed his hands from the edges of the cloth. Ushering him toward the door, his brother looked back at the table and Dane saw a look on Stan’s face he had never seen before.
there was a certain reverence
with the way she cleaned her tools.
he asked who wielded who
and she glanced at the metal in her hands.
when people worship,
it’s with their hands
and blood.
He looked over his fathers shoulder, small hands grasping the dinosaur toy. His eyes glistened as the brush in his father’s hand obeyed his every command.
He bowed at The Woman’s feet.
is in my heart when I think about God and all He’s blessed me with. silence is reverence at times, full of poignant memories, makes me happy, and content.
The reverence he showed as he handled the weapon showed his fear of violence. Raymond had never been touched by violence or death, so he couldn’t possibly understand how to perform in this way.
Reverence is what i feel about my parents and teachers and any thing that inspires me and makes me wanna be a better person. Smell of rain, ice cream cone, a grateful smile are all small, teeny bits of it.
The crowd looked at me with an awkward reverence, their eyes never leaving my exposed hands as I stood in the middle of the lake. It was as if they had experienced a baptism in the aftermath of a rebirth – all I had merely done was bring a confused young boy back to shore because he had followed his dog into the water and could not swim.
As I slogged my way back to solid ground, I noticed as my white shirt seemed longer and dragged behind me like a robe. I assumed that such an occurrence did not dissuade the audience from a Christian-like image.
He has the reverence of a sinner in a church every time he steps up onto a stage.
Reverence? Absolutely nothing comes to mind with “reverence.” I have a “reverence” for the word “reverence” but absolutely no use for it. I do not revere. I do revere, but not in the mood I’m in right now. Fuck you, reverence. That’s what I have to say about reverence. This is a bad start to this exercise. Apparently now I must write more, because I did not follow instructions. So far I do not have reverence for this website. I wish I had a clearer definition of reverence… I don’t know exactly whether I know exactly what it is. Which makes writing about it more difficult.
eren looks up from beneath endless lashes as he slides levi’s boot off, slow and careful, as if the milky skin would break if he moved too quickly, as if the moment would be over if he moved too quickly. he runs his hand down the underside of the man’s calf and stops only to cup the ball of his foot, thumb tracing the dent of his ankle with a reverent touch.
with an air of piety, i recovered the tiny object from that old, red shoebox. i hadn’t looked at it for at least five years, and yet here it was. a simple white box, containing a simple white cylindric plastic container. a gift from my sister. soap bubbles. it had been more than just an act of humoring my odd knack for collecting soap bubble containers – she’d given me her blessing.