The lines my mind creates between pregnant Earth and sky highlight the depth of hope to which my imagination and faith cling to rebirth. What then of dreams? What then of circumstance and folly? Shall they too feed the ignominy of my exponential proclivity to see each universe expand? Or will true reward salve the wound of deprecation in realization or validation of my apparent sanity? As light beyond eye’s capacity to resolve dominates the darkness all memory of despair depart with possibility and probability. Does the dawn rekindle our imagination or simply confirm our faith in another day of God gifted trial?

Sing your Song, Oh’ God for we long to hear the voice of reason and sovereignty sung by someone who recalls their long slumber. Dance oh’ heavens to the rhythm painted upon the frozen desert as red rock meets purity descending in frozen pictures. Hark to God’s command to war oh Angels bid you swift to defend the life so precious left worthless, ravaged in the maw of time. Chute up oh market healers paid to perpetuate the myth of substance that all may for a time believe themselves immortal. Again to the mist of dysfunction and perpetual ignorance for but your efforts all would find resolve and peace.

If they pray for peace without thinking of its kinship to Return they are entwined with enemy for without His mantle there shall not be peace on Earth or sky. Let War reign in its insatiable consummation laying waste to the properties of noble birth that they may feel the poverty of their own hearts, mind and soul. As hate stands in the mouths of masses the wicked rule for only in love may the fear of fascists, fatalists and futurists be whisked away to the caverns where wind never goes. What then is left untouched by the tainting hand of man’s self indulgence? What pure, what holy, what righteous thing exists even in the eyes of the freshly born? What hope may be found but that which emanates from the Word and depth of plan’s outside time’s lustful grasp?

As day lays hold of all it reveals definition once again governs eyes perception. Beheld withheld from darkness and morning dew the stars still find attractive. For through the misty envelope of atmosphere they see the Sun’s reflection within it captured the image of Earth and sky to be deciphered color and heat. Why does God take snapshots of Creation in packet, wave and particle? Are these to be captured proof or evidence against the dark’s intrusion in to the land of Light? What then the promise of tomorrow written forever strongly upon the tables of my heart? Will memories be valid within the realm of heaven or soon forgotten as the shoe discarded? What then shall quench this hope that reaches beyond the sky and even believes the impractical evidence of Peace Given once to all Men.