Keep to the road though storm arise for I shall provide the dawn warmth and cost of lodging. What days are come that we shall find ourselves alone? How brusk the winter’s eve that we shall pale from starkers duty? Closing buttons and wrapping shirt to keep shivers at bay. Gift, unused resting on the mantle, tangent my Bible’s binding. Both left wrapped, unmolested, cloaked to my eyes, mysteries secret, joys un-felt, contents veiled.
Plausible that I should find my way to heaven charting course with strong back and sturdy wind. Fraud and silliness this challenge to accept infinity by belief. Utter nonsense, dreamed in dark places. So many roads leading to Rome, incomprehensible that one alone should lead ventures to truth and light of distinction. It is too simple to hold possibility and therefore implausible.
Juggling cardinals cramming cerebrum full of jargon, pontification and data, attempting subjugation of massive proportion. Moribund cornea and vinegar pallet in youth, resistant to all hope, wiping their brows in fallacious freedom. Concealment their goal, not of unavoidable truth but in fearful, frail, supine form covered from the wrath of a certain God. Terrified in anticipation and hiding from imminent footfall of Felis Leo, the Wrath, the Judgment, the Righteousness, the Life.
Miserably seeking the endless separation of all, to numb the thrumming loneliness of exclusivity. Cannot go alone to be alone in the nothing locked forever in moot argument of postulate, identity and reason with hecklers of Grace. Their uncoordinated flailing a brief opportunity in which to snatch away those who through Grace may see the truth and flee. Oh that I may see that day, I pray. Lord Jesus come.