Wrestling with Almighty. A worthy cause? Misunderstood promise and labors unwanted, trying so hard to achieve that which is already secured. Wed to insignificance. Born to expectation, reborn to wait upon the miracles of Grace and plenty in solidarity. Dreams leading into glamour or darkened, treasured opulence. What fancy found in the son of dukes and wizards infatuated with their capacity to flip a switch or collide the elements? Who understands why they have matter, mass or density, except through observation? If in formula I celebrate my wisdom what then is true power found in creation?

I do not make or condemn your choices. These days are yours to plunder, pass or measure equal to every man. The motivation of objective focus is the delight of purpose sought. A tire rolls, an ox withstands the burden a vision foretells. When wells bone dry what relief does my adoration deliver? Applaud in the completion of love instructed and given by the one who wrote its story. This pleading to be found the hand up or stool upon which many reached the fruitful boughs of everlasting. Time wants and consumes without favor. To it this life is fed til limits removed and even foundation is shaken from certain footing.

My feast awaits at the hand that by any right should never give me morsel. Yet in display we find grand answers to all mystery. To live again or fill the span of history and time yet coming with the annals of eternity. What equal plane upon which we touch down delights in our receiving? There is no shame nor gain in choosing against the gifts of twice wonderful. There is no rest or peace embroiled in fires of Gehenna. There is only what you’ve demanded, separation from all that God offers. By choice deserted on the island of self worship, retribution and regret for having dutifully done it your way. Arrogance, the mistress who promises flight with White Throne in our assembly. To rise and fall as empires choosing fate and not the faithful.

There are no misconceptions in the pull of gravity upon us. There are no alternate realities as the wind pummels unmercifully, reminding flesh of its impermanence. No escape from aging skin and ebbing strength of person, mind or fashion. Yet, relief is real and rest for certain. Do we possess that abiding essence and fealty fashioned of hope, faith and picture in our imagination? How powerful the pontificate of dream. Do we count this mortal treasure? Seeing beyond the curvature of time into space yet ventured? Knowing that the unknowable is attainable in some forgotten hope. What then is value in life if not the things, table, taxes, conquest or wisdoms this world wants for your possession? If the greatest of weapons, fruits and love are endemic to something other than sight, feel and smell?

What bucket I leave at wellhead’s sitting? Running child to tell all of the master and mystery. What freedom in the precise recounting of my passage? That burden no longer defines my greatness. That freedom is the absence of regret found only in forgiveness. What then may be the greatest gift I’ve given if love the only thing that bridges times withholding? What solace achieved in being known to rock, tree and ground? Aligned in everlasting documentary of God’s Glory reflected in my living and inclusion. I am the richest of us all, yet I pray my Sisters and Brothers soon surpass me. overjoyed, the boot boy, rewarded in service eternal, the Bond Slave of Christ the Master.