The world in gold, pomp and crimson shining in hypnotic blaze. Singing the songs of men gone wrong to find our lamps polished. Three dreams and satin seams. Perplexed, confused and dismayed at the gravity and weight of man’s entrapment. How is the bedazzling so commonly complete? That in this moment of greatest worth we squint and blink at light’s passing?

From what are we running and to what are blindly marching? Not a widget, sounding board or sequenced equation producing x result. We speak as the eternal yet find ourselves moored in taffy of this temporary misunderstanding of the sublime. The elite practice inhumanity and tether their worth to this false proclamation that money knows forever. When they have never met.

Giving is not a plan to achieve some objective intent. For if they knew God’s measure and crafting the authenticity of His Word would remake the world around us. Humbled by obedient mountains delivering themselves to oceans on demand. In the scarcity of power we found that we had always been beyond restraint. Freed prisoners respond not the warden’s warning.

Stars expect the stellar visit of those eclipsing mass, light and gases. Beckon not oh distant moon the delight of my awe stricken madness. For worthy, not found in the realization of my wanting, resides and waits quietly upon the sands of time’s river. To be known at moment’s founding the treasures greater than a man may excavate or bear. In delight of seamless mortar, pressed against the mooring stone we were never nor shall be alone.