Gulls above, waves below. Snow upon the mountain, supported by the coated trees. Salt and sand with pine aloft. Thinking of the ground prepared, waiting and so soft. All too real, no doubt or curse. Nothing could be better and less could be much worse. Time it slows when breathing ease. No harbor towns or judge appease. To walk a saint and hear the faint sound of silence we deem so quaint.

Complaints dissolve and sound subdued. Cooked up sweet steak fresh bread we chewed. Our hearts and muscles freshly renewed. Into the pelt I melted warm. Constellations taking their clear form. Imbued with pleasure and fits of joy. My heart not bitter nor mood so coy. For days and weeks we marched at pace, a roaring rhythm of saving grace. Wide smiles and color upon each face.

No sense of doom, no furnished room. Where duck and squirrel do their dance. A fallen tree my sheltered home. To wind we bundled absent spark. Setting flame with birch wood bark. We laughed inside not aloud. Much too humbled to be feeling proud. Our mood soon quickened with each mounting cloud. Into deep supply each must reach remembering waves on crashing beach.

So short now this hour new. The steps once many reduced to few. Our feet aflame our names forgotten. All was pure nothing rotten. Pondering all that we’d forgotten. Upon our doubt we encountered peace. Abundant life and new found lease. Against reduction we sought increase. The happy smiles of kids in mud, found in awe of the powerful flood, who knows when trees supposed to bud?

Our skin and hearts in deep repair. No cause for anger, rage or swear. We’d found ourselves, I do declare, when we expected to see so little there. Hope is treasure and will so kind to fortify and prepare the mind. Our hearts aflame with kindled fire knowing now we’d reach the wire. Stretched across a road so slim the day so long the light so dim. Spurious delight the thoughts impossible to requite our charcoal future once again so bright. We knew we would survive the fight.

Rage, sorrow, madness and joy. Unleashed upon an unsuspecting and ill prepared world. Forgiveness earned. Taming twists of specific manipulation. The legions of fury consume the night. As the insufferable hold themselves on high. There is no victory in securing that which you knew would be defeated. Only the demands of damaged wiring.

Silence! As the calm bellow’s boldly. Reverberating through the system’s planning. Disengaged from the course of peaceful resolution. Wanting and breathing chaos. Fired bellies screaming misguided acrimony of tortured feline. Spitting fiery fumes of pitch thrown free of volcanic upset. We imagined for a moment blue skies in Autumn.

We have become the lake of fire. Resemble the disquiet of lives gone wrong. Awry, twisted, frozen profiles of practiced performance. Dancing to too many and too frequent demands upon humanity. Throats cleared and voices damaged in persistent fearful expression. Men stepping too close to self adoration. We believed ourselves absolved of all compassion.

Imagining you see me as I am. Convinced that mechanisms of a machine for which you once saw schematic now reside within controls, nuance and dismissal. Certainly this damsel is tamed. Complexities and accepted certainties. Knowing that the gravity of resistance is found in time. Waiting for the moments when the picture emerges unfamiliar.

Staying lanes imparts some measure of control or authority. Into lands you’ve never ventured and journeys unforgotten for never having been seen. Palsy the desire for inclusion. Freedom never stored on shelf or kept comfortable in slavery of mind, tent or promise. Love, given without consent, fee or graft. Made to see but never receive.

The world is duped. Complicit to a takeover. Seeking personal obeisance and promised vapors. Looking into a vision built on mist and flowery language. Following queens, beans and band aids showered in nightmares and bullets. What cream has sweetened fruit and coffee? What pursuance of planetary populations in pragmatism? We have not prospered here what neighborhood would accept us until we’ve matured in heart, mind and spirit? The long slow sell of escapism over transformation by character revision.

The fallen are not sound investment. An inevitable service to the sovereign means their projections have never been more than puppet’s porn. An allegory involving a man, a cave and the shadows of flashlights and flash-bangs herding humanity. What is freedom now that we have empirical shakeout of the falsely represented? Slow steady pressure on the hypothalamus as temperature, muscle and nerve controls bend the will to many while the few are broken. Rebellion is cumulative and community activism the paid agents of empire.

Mine eyes have seen the glory and my heart sank in my service to those who hate Him. No watch fires of the faithful but pyres of pointless sacrifice of innocent and unprotected. As good men volunteered to bring about new horizons. We stood hapless, confused and disengaged to the starting guns of salvation. Rolling over to slap the snooze we return to booze and circus to entertain our grip upon the inevitable. Misunderstanding the probability and promise we stood rough shod upon the shores of indifference waiting for a sign and season. We had lost before we began though repeatedly promised victory, Incapable.

When choosing sides, courage was absent in our solemn recitation of spiritual conquest. Revisionist history is always a term for prevarication no matter who well wrapped in pretty papers and perfume. Those who own the common man’s quest to rise from the dust will always craft a better version. While truth remains itself upon a field of obfuscation, those who would see light’s failing continue to convince silly men that water is not wet and the skies are never falling. We are the product of what we believe to be sound judgment. Regardless of what version my imagination remains a self defined interpretation.

In the chambers of our self worth, stored images, perceptions, false and real. Is it real to imagine myself noble? To believe somehow my time has been spent sidestepping the unrighteous ideals and notions of a heart known to be average. Intelligent but average, nothing new, nothing rare, nothing resembling elevated character and decision making. What must we tell ourselves to establish this ruse of self containment and conditioning?

In all my ventures, sweet and dark, the consistent factor when reviewing my performance has been a resilient level of mediocrity. Why then would I believe that writing home of valor and applause is somehow anything but absurd or delusional? I have impressed no one especially myself and the things I have done worthy of accord have all been the dynamic voice and direction given me by Holy Spirit. I am a productive man led by the Hand of God.

I cannot follow you into the alleys of your indifference or foolish attendance to errant flesh. If you wish to wrestle with Almighty, I will not stand with you but kneel before Him in prayer hoping that He councils you to reason. I have had my stomach full of disobedience and affirmation of my ignorance. For the longest time I believed that this somehow was unloving, discouraging or disloyal, but maturity elucidates the alternate. Resisting is real love.

In these moments where the opportunity favors to demonstrates aspects commensurate with character. I shall not squander the chance to do something right. I am not one to threaten or cajole, but in discernment if I stand against this foolish movement perhaps one or both of us will exhibit sufficient faith to please the Father? Nonetheless I must try. For in this miserable history of weakened resolve I have prayed and hope for the pregnant moment to be found in Grace bringing Glory to the King.

No pyres no fires and no dreamscape rituals chanted in the low light of mimicked parlors shadowed in darkness. What travesty Trieste? We may not dawdle with the gloomy realists of yesteryear. No broken slurs against the Sovereign. No slithering dames found hapless in mid night. No proud offerings or consideration for legacy and fame. Let God foretell the covenant peoples. Leaving judgment to the right and remembering our place beneath His vision and repair.

For victory challenges the failed dreams of those hiding in the mountain. Sequester in hope of ruin. Laying wait for the innocent and the weary. Neither show us your contempt for all that breathes its light may be covered in soot or snuffed out as the candles of your calling. The choked cough of silent reeling. Promenade peradventure praying some notice by forgotten queen or parlay before Emperor’s ruling. No bells chiming in the clarity of cold kept vales of cloistered reason.

Fall and fail the trying rail against wisdom’s wall. Bring down the march toward oblivion. Joining hands in waiting watch of fire’s fashion. Counseled to stand against thirst and hunger instead of buffet’s bounty. They herald warns of coming wrath. And hath freed the dogs of wars whisper. As proud men seek handfuls of hair and fury. We watched as all care and compassion stepped away from the frenzied feast. Found equal and aligned with night’s perch.

Shoring up the falling is not the same as repairing or healing the broken. America needs both knees replaced that we may kneel humbly before the Creator and stand resistant against the Dark in Courage. Gone are the days and elements of excuse. Into the night in flight or repentant promise of light scamper we. Found only cautious in our word and mindful of deed. We hope to some day stand together in the eternal warmth of God’s transcendent promise.

What are we but men, made by God breathing His Spirit into a handful of Earth, Adam-from dirt. Women, taken and created from that God-Breathed Man. In our simplicity and union with God we found life, purpose and projected outcome found in the promises He made to all. The Spirit being the promise of that scripting as reminder that one day we would be completed in our physical presence before and with God to live our Eternity. It is the “now” of this Divine play that confronts and demands our attention.

This realization governs both those who have given commitment to this understanding or denied it to find themselves in a self-created, alternate vain glory of imagination. Complicating this scenario, is the entrance of a highly powerful created being thrown down from presence before God. A being brilliantly, clever beyond our power’s of defense against the wiles of deception. Our only protection and inevitable victory found once again in the belief and reliance upon God’s original promises and the hope of protection from this Dominion by that same Spirit of promise found in our creation.

This reality or subsequent determined departure from it provides the range of thought and motion completely encapsulating this thing we call life. For as life was started by God through His Power and defined by His promise and purpose, there is nothing outside that governing sphere. It is the basis of Christian understanding and consciousness fully described and taught by the Spirit of Romans 1. For it is that same Spirit that is the “earnest” or faithful promise of our participation or enmity with God throughout time. Since that Spirit is the Promise of our Salvation, the presence or absence of that Same Spirit within each heart is the “Seal” either for eternity in presence of God or departure to a separation in a place we know as Gehenna or more commonly as Hell.

Now the challenge. We as men test the limits of this governing sphere in our own will to either find contentment within the will of God or escape in Self-Dominion. Additionally, we are continually lured, prompted and coaxed by the wiles of a Roaming Lion wandering to and fro seeking whom he may devour. Yes, we have an extremely powerful created being, thrown down by God, set among men to challenge us to obey or defy God. The joy found in the protection of the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit of our Creation, the same defining Spirit of the Promise found in God, the same Spirit that seals all men in faith for eternity with God. All this managed by choice. A choice so powerful, so Divine, so loving that each man is given a lifetime to make it. A choice that defines not only our present life but the one to follow. The Choice to believe upon the powerful promised salvation found in Jesus Christ the coming King or depart in our own vain creation ending only in separation from God.

Why is this paramount to our current predicaments? Well as with any athletic or mental challenge there was a beginning, there is a period of performance and there is a coming end where our works are analyzed and accounted. Nothing matters unless there is an end to the voluntary choice that looms before humanity. The difficulty for today’s man is that winding down of time leading to a “pencil’s down” moment is creating urgency in our hearts and minds. We all feel the pressure upon us, even those who seek seclusion and self-created peace through vain imagination. For Roman’s 1 declares that the failure to acknowledge God’s Sovereignty in the demanded choice leaves no man free of the weight of judgment upon everyone. We are told that no man is without excuse as God has made His coming Wrath evident to all in creation. We are in the fourth quarter of that contest. What we do now is of special import for we proceed the return of Christ to rule and reign for eternity. As those who believe we now hold the Spirit of Promise and Power in our hearts, the only avenue of escape for all mankind from the certain wrath and judgment.

Do we think it is coincidence that there have been four Reich’s unleashed upon man in 800AD? Do we think it simple chance that places the forces of Global Dominion, Global Government, Global War and Global religion upon all of humanity at this precise timing? Do we think it pure chance that man has come to the age of advanced artificial thinking? Isn’t this an alternate expression of Vain Imagination that fails to acknowledge God and seeks its own will? No, this current paradigm is consistent with God’s Gospel and never departs one iteration or iota from God’s declaration of Light’s entry. He is the beginning and the end, He is the Light and the Spirit, He is the only peace and protection. Only in our acceptance of this Awesome reality do we find the potential to do Good or seek alternate end in avatar. The time is upon us, liking it or worrying about it does little to defer the gravity of its import or the danger of our ignorance/denial. The fourth quarter is the time in which we are privileged to participate. Have you decided to bring your A Game, simply show up or remain in the illusion that you through self determination/actualization may find your own created end?