At once. To the molten light meant for you alone. There is no desperation in sound thinking. No willing praise to darkened hearts. Finishing has always been the only objective. Not even doing quite well the spice. There is time upon us all. A compelling offering of opportunity. This is not a trophy shop. The lure of easy money and praise tests each of us. Often it is what you do not do that defines you.

Winnowed hearts refusing to look back upon the world when beckoned to God by angels in salt’s freedom. Where to now my kind friend? No snare or captive bait. No freedom but the will to do otherwise. Pretty things upon the hallway shelves all basking in the light of eye’s hunger. Not a journey made easily alone in memory of the cave of lions in quiet mouths. For these are men who will turn your worth away.

Forsaking the will of a wounded faith. No doubts for this ground may not be held by bandaged feet. For lions roam seeking our mastery, craving our core. Safety is not a place or measure of mendacity. Deep, roots, planted at the edge of river’s source. Fruit replenished at the well of springs. Walking the road of days yet mired in pollution of man. We proudly speak of nothing and find hope in our peace.

The World Calls. Not a cry of promised slumber, rather the shiny appealing indentured slavery to things and bells and lights. It is not enough to turn away. We must simply make a decision to not want any of it, instead turning to the hope of unknown promises of God. Realized that the things beyond Dominion, those wonders beyond the imagination possess limitless appeal to a man or woman seeking wonder. I am awe stricken by God and I am sorry none of this compares because He made all of this. What comes next for me.