Razor sharp tautly held rope in definition of a peculiar mindset. Who elects the social squad of consequence, sitting on high with weighty pronouncements that make young girls cry and men stand forever in the garden? A puzzle piece that so keenly plugs the hole remaining on credenza, yet somehow will never match the picture on the box. Odd trends separating man from man in a creation made for everyone.

We rejoice in our segregation. Though so soundly unfair as evidence of inclusion somewhere beyond the reaches of those with exclusions bony paw. I stood refreshed but weary as the absence of inclusion left me the only course. There are places beyond the touch of mortal man to which peculiar finds love and welcome. To sing with those in adoration of the Sovereign Grace of infinity seated upon Heaven’s throne who knows everything worth knowing and calls me kin.

I will never find inclusion here in man’s scripted devices, for I am pariah to their absolute abandon. It is fine to know the reason I am here is for them as God wants them in the next life. The few that I have known which truly love the brethren are the fresh air to my lungs and cure to heaviness of heart. It must be done this way, we all must make choice to let patience do her perfect work in eschewing the yearning for treasure and personal reward in exchange for everything in the here after. There is no other path to such heavenly regard, all other roads lead to separation and pain.

Good and true mornings in whispers of wind’s message that all the world changes regardless of our inclination, participation or acquiescence. In fault the bridge to understanding remembers nothing but the scratches of our memories. Hearts and tomes of recall traced over with older fingers and minds that have seen more winters. Receptive days and lies told to massage reason bring to close the friends and pathways we have plundered. The farm smells of planting and Earth while the bugs crawl, bees buzz and children look for some new wonder to play with. Remorse escapes as I seek to work with the consistent whose taint has not fallen upon the August early moon. Those of heart swept up in joy of promise, hope and everlasting.

To them the fight is easy. Paramount not given to inflated understanding or reason denying the participation of the Mighty Hands that made time for our purpose. Closed are the windows through which our papers flurried. Done enough for this lifetime as not every issue was meant for my completion. Spoken unto my frustrated dreams apologizing for my leaving. There will come another who will help from here on in. This is not the day of my disclosure nor the time of my miracles unfurled. But my days of flags blown toward the mounting spirit of the sun where dreams crack lose and hope finds good soil in purchase. I am not the solution to this equation. Nor seeker of greater things without pliability of sanction.

Fixation upon results that were never meant to come this season but many moons into the future. A fateful thing to be measured by laws I’ve always broken. In exception of my pride remain vulnerable to the moments that catch me up in time’s open hand. Brought to pastures of my own design, filled with reason that escapes the boundaries of reason. Asked once to dance and twice to marshal moments so bleak to turn stomach green and eye averted to brighter days. Things are not always as they appear in the scripts of our willingness. Looking to truth is not conclusion but beginning. In the depth of purport and inclination we find the resolve to fight or run away. This is the day upon which I have made my claim to success of failures written about my passing.

Into conquest of the holy realms of action. The mirror holds its power to see within. Including all of the evidence and sadness. My heart is sodden with the pain that cannot be staunched or stemmed even by love but must be coddled forever as infant. We frequent the upset of the measure, given by a hand that understands provision and perfection. Things to which my mind wanders without recall or clarity. The folds of folly call my name in kinship. Hoping that I too will plant my verdant hope in the shortness and breath of thoughts and memories patent. Feckless and eager to make miles of adoration my victim I forget the Love that’s given and march on to those thing that mattered little to cause of all mankind.

Time’s heart erupted. The sky split showing the baseline as the universe reached for something to hold it up. Falling upward, begin blown about with no wind or sound I found my heart pulsing with the orange and blood red flashes in the dark. My eyes rebelled from sensory overload or was it my soul that in the overwhelming moment had no frame with which to reference. Down the worm hole of cripple’s casting I through myself to escape the hollering night. The scream of dawn as sunlight was torn from our memories we suffered separation from any peaceful comprehension. All was war, chaos and abnormal even taking breath seemed somehow wrong. Screeches of worlds colliding made sound in the vacuum that we should have heard but lay harmless hiding on the walls and wells of space’s exit ramp. Not wanting to set the clock in motion once again I hid inside myself, afraid to even question, reason or move. For it had too much, too much for man to see and know.

We had gone the distance and found nothing at forms end. Deposited in the run off of the cosmos, I felt discarded as we had somehow found the alley behind the Rosen Bridge. My mind, my skeleton, my organs felt out of place. Stretched by exceeding light our cells torn apart and restructure a million times per second we should not be, carelessly spread across a thousand parsecs in our passing. Sanctified in sadness of lost loves and moorings detached. The fray into which we are cast may not be of our choosing but is defined by its pregnancy for the quickening of heart and mind. Lost in the established norms I fail to sound present when called upon the perform the task of my expectations. Into the void I find nothing substantial upon which to erect my escape from this vast and abnormal expanse. Time had failed to adhere us to the present which leading to future uncertain. Our whereabouts unknown we grappled with reason no longer satisfactory foundation upon which to make plans for our redemption.

The darkness loomed and promised nothing. In the dullness of my senses I was forced to close my eyes accepting them poor asset in the presence of overwhelming data. Sound and sight had lost this fight and their once helpful input now played only tricks upon my courage and understanding. I stood back from all that I held as truth, except that having travelled through millennia, mass and distance I still existed outside of all law that should have torn me asunder. From under the folds that I punched in time I arose to the panorama of life distant from that which any had known reaching into the new territories of God’s deliverance. I leaned into this new and irrational perception, knowing that there is always a way through calamity and time. Seeking avenues of thought and imagination I felt the gravity of interconnecting pathways leading to places of Spiritual conclusion. The light drew me near to welcome my initiation into all that was before me.

Does valor claim me its victim or ally? What proof does a sideline seat give me to honor, glory or the acceptance of fate and chance? I am the Lord of no one’s fence.

Into the midst of an incontrollable fray I am cast as a pawn with some secret. Some mystery instilled from the dawn of time plays and pulses within a heart that would be slain by palsy, paralysis and fear. These things are not my master but the weapons of foes with penchant for promises they cannot bear to fruition.

I look on while the forces massed against us find purchase in the soils given to God’s beloved. What chance in hell’s installment have they in victory against the King of All Kings? Don’t delight in the frenzy playing out scenes of a script they’ve written in their own denial of the inevitable. Must I now play my cards dealt from an imaginary deck in avatar to escape the obligations and vows that call me to reason?

These are the demons of old have thrived and sycophantly slurped from the power of Spirit that resides too far for the touch of the swollen phalanges. What promise to which they cling brings them to the outskirts of the impossible only to be fallen upon by the Rock that started all Ages? Are we to fall pray to roaming lions pent on our destruction, toothless and off scripture? No for the war is not our own but at the footsteps of God’s Throne. They violate His proclamations in their making. Are we to enforce laws lain down by God Himself? What of His Wrath for their blatant disobedience? Must we reconsider our own in expecting His intervention upon Promise?

Cyclically we repeat the fearful works of unfaithful. Again to again we find caverns and shadow in which to hide from the horrific when all along God’s wings and His Omniscience stood awaiting our acceptance. I run no more if but to the waiting arms of God’s Protection, Hope and Promise. Wait not my Friends for the time dwindles in this mass of indecision.

Crucial ignominy relative to the mooring poured out in ages long perished. Trials in the eyes of nieces whispering dark tales of Uncle’s character manipulated to portray an innocent man. Left to reason it out in solitude, conversations held with self, by self, answered by self, leaving one as barren as the desert in noonday. We are sanctioned to perform outside of universal norms with the sole purpose and reason being our gratification and untarnished conscience. What monsters have played the stage this day?

The machinery is corroded, not simply tarnished in the diesel poisons of nation’s impropriety, but fouled at its heart in desperate cries of demonic indwelling. There is no stride long enough to escape the mark leveled deeply in the memory of mankind. An immoral rape of all that may be referred sacrosanct. Nothing left as imaginations are dumped upon the screens and sidewalks for review by children left with scarred or wounded innocence. This is our history being written before us, as we idly sing along never once contemplating the thoughts of our Great-Grand Children. To what shame do we subject them in relation, for we will be to blame for their world’s ravaging.

What have we placed upon today’s pedestal. Remorseless discovery of non pious criminality and lusts so odd they would make the fallen blush? How high the pyres, fired to rid us of blemish and stain that resists the cleansing of prayer and passion? What washes away the epiglottal filth hard as staining sand beyond the reach of prying finger or lozenge? Cattle calls and pack cars of chattel slaves to the empires of the slaked and dark places. Collective minds lost before their promised hive mind could connect them. Reason laid to rest alongside the sense we once found common. Colors are dulled by capacity of imperception.

How may freedom’s price be paid when a child wandering in neighborhood less known is sold for sensory conquest? The nerves pinched by visions so cruel them challenge the breadth of human definition, we lay porous to acidity, without remorse or cause or home. This challenge is the range of our purpose and recognition of the life residing in us. For none too sweet to accept folly as hope would bring forth counsel to remain astride the horse we now have saddled. No stirrup’s support for the weight the bears us aloft to greater things that a man yet has done. For we are counted lonely when seated with the masses as their dreams never once got whispered. For in our heads and hearts the drums of self indulgence silenced all voice and wisdom.

We were alone for the ride to bridge and fury. In to the promised wrath of all that Hold’s Holy we committed ourselves in utter pride. Taken from the horse of our propelling false conscience we are dissolved in the Raging magma of life’s forging furnace to return to dust as we arrived.

Pomegranate ripe, insatiable appetite for reason and the myths of misbegotten societies bequeathed to sand and saddle. The prattle, deeming the inevitable eye sore pursuits and passions while fashions change and ideals erode grand measure. What then are our hopes on destiny as supercharged agents of plasma stride mordantly to capture one drop of innocent impact? With recalcitrance the forest falls in silence. Capricious men of plunder and imposed authority ride the distance to see damage complete. Ten thousand feet of rubbish for one Holy Word while plants and paupers weigh the tin of man’s gold wanton.

Counting the coin of departure from all that counsels reason. Lying, roadside sewing the seams of dreams that were better left bottled by mottled crew and happenstance hero. Exception painted upon the face of would-be Queen with lean understanding and negative depth for sounding. Mark it masters of hydrophilicity and sound trumpet to masters lain bare by barrage of those sans patience. To ward agents of porous nightmare, bringers and harbingers of dark’s silken presence. A nonce to guarantee the pathway to Light’s resounding victory. As the moors whisper and the bog stand quiet. We retreat in resolute posture toward the frozen obelisks of our repentance. Waylaid by schemes and dreams yet answered.

Therapy for the healthy conscious sake of emptying the sack to place or replace filter to filth. A spontaneous occasion left random by numbers pulled from repositories of hidden mirth and the annals of World’s yet born. We sing in promise to the wind that never answers thinking itself unseen and therefore unaccountable. But withhold the lodgings of promise and rabble finds residual romance a folly to be laughed at as hand upon hand the land is shaken by promise. Til death or the wealth runs asunder from under the foundations of our occurring reckon. Opulent white and Knight’s sheen to brilliance in undertaking though foolish beyond mixing spirits with sight. Into the whole of night we march awakened by the fires against the horizon we see the landing for hopes at half past dawn.

These are the lands of the unfamiliar, forgotten by hand or trampling foot to breathe in the ram’s resting. Precession a blessing of sorts against the warts of poor thinking and the addle of drinking we parade to display our grand punditry. Faking remorse we’ve altered our course but the horse to the bridle is chafing. A landing in crimson and taupe we slowly release the rope necessary for recovering our honor. In delight we enter this fight untouched by the weight of immortality for we all perish. In timely deceit the rest of the fleet was acquainted with harbors yet wandered. In games afoot, the soot of passions and woes written upon our freshly fired faces to replace the qualms and the psalms we’d once uttered. To war said the maid but we’d already paid to be included on the manifest to midnight.

What determines a man is true or righteous or valiant? How is each man or woman determined to be of Good Courage? How is success measured in this world of sex stars, Mansions and the pedestals upon which seemingly shallow humans are propped? How do you know that you are on the right path? Who holds the key to determining your qualifications and for what position are they considering you? Are criminals to assuage the worth of men who would stand in positions representing larger communities? What then is our modern criteria for accounting our moral dilemma or delight? Are ill patients the measure of health in America? Is it a simply percentage analysis and any measure eclipsing 50% immediately determines the whole? How many men and women have ever volunteered in one era to put on the Uniform of Military Service to Protect the People and their Constitution?

Do you get to tell me how well my kids are doing in their growth and education? Some would have us believe that is within their right as they are more thoroughly or functionally educated. What then of the common man who has paid cash for everything, having made sure all of his kids got a solid skill or education and possessed the mature financial/emotional acumen to make for themselves a good life? What does God think of Each of us? Does He have a separate evaluation for the rich, educated or corporate magnate then He uses for Farmer, Mom or thief? The World’s greatest dysfunction is subjectivity. Proof residing in any employee who will not open his or her mouth to tell the boss he is Moral bankrupt simply to collect another check.

And how many of us have sold our birthright for a bowl of soup, considering our reputation a trifle matter, ascribing our capitulation to when in Rome do as the Roman’s Do, do it til your satisfied or don’t make waves. Jesus Made waves not that He would be killed for it although that was the outcome. He spoke out against hypocrisy, Idolatry, misuse of Authority, skimming the faithful and designing spiritual rules incorporated for the purpose of self ingratiation. Our issue now that we are all self-absorbed is that our own graven image of gods and our own understanding have become the moral framework through which we judge actions of the World and Ourselves. It is no longer common to reflect upon God’s Law or Word to determine the righteous but to look upon a man as did Aristotle to determine today’s definition of what is right and true. If your god’s are fame, fortune and everything that goes with it then Professional athletes, Celebrities and Politicians using the world in unscrupulous fashion is condoned even held in high regard. If on the other hand you possess Biblical World View then these things are outside the aspirations God to which directs us.

The rub begins when statistics claim that 70% of US citizens call themselves Christian or Jew to which Worshiping ONE HOLY and Righteous God is requirement. In fact even those in Islam believe that on judgment day they must be found 50.1 percent good to receive the benefit of Paradise. So we have a quandary entirely based upon misunderstanding of those God believes faithful. The Jews must abide by the Law of Moses or the greater creation of laws written by the Synagogue leaders. Christian’s entry to heaven is solely determined by their believe upon Christ Jesus’ Work’s upon the Cross of Calvary, His Propitiation for all sin as the Perfect Son of God sacrificed for all men and the sealing of His Holy Spirit for eternity upon each proclaiming/receiving this truth. So if those who call themselves by God’s Name believe that it is their own goodness that will gain them access to heaven’s gate they are invariably and sadly mistaken or deceived. A doctrine of Works and the 50.1% is the subjective worldly “Democratic” judgment based upon Majority. To be caught using worldly measures in Spiritual pursuits is a fate worse then death for it comes with separation and agony forever.

So our plight is excruciating. We are using our own subjective analysis to determine our Objective preparation for Everlasting Life. We have been tamed, clamed and renamed by those who practice expert deception into believing a lie we told ourselves. That is why it is imperative for the Son’s of God to arise in power and proclaim the only Name by Which man is saved so that those believing themselves righteous in falsity may awaken and accept the Gift of Grace from God. I do not aspire to riches and wealth, fame or sexual conquest for these are the subjective prizes of worldly wealth. They are temporary, momentary and must be sustained or maintained in order to experience continued, “Happiness”. Pursuits of Happiness are worldly and are far eclipsed by JOY which is Objectively sustained by God’s Holy Spirit.

We must determine our perspective, either Subjective and worldly or Objective and Heavenly. Those are the bars of our current prison from which God has already set US free. If you are captured then perhaps it is time to adjust your Spiritual Perspective to reflect God’s Objective, inerrant, eternal Word that you may live outside the false expectations and understanding of those who believe themselves headed to eternity in God’s Presence but have actually chosen to reside in the Lake of Fire designed for satan and his angels, Forever.