Changed to a better state of thinking in the mind of Christ. Erased programming or bad mental infrastructure as if the crisp, morning reminder that Winter ends in Spring.

This the hive mind illumination is promised revelation of self. Luring thinking into the rabbit holes shrouded in the darkness of shadow and wounded contemplation.

No good road begins with false or wrong direction. A chest full of breathable air, strength of leg and heart we approach the things meant for us when we pursue the august plantings.

Asking forgiveness, convicted of mistaken walk, seeking to retreat and find the skinny path, unfamiliar and uncomfortable on the open road. The quiet mentality of transformed man.

I cannot release what I never received nor bid tidings to that without commitment. Only lay patiently for Spirit’s guidance to the hopeful swells and wanderings of the gifted resurgence.

Appreciating my grappling, weakened hands seek grip and enjoy the wrestle from standpoint of steps taken in misunderstanding. These are the days of awakening.

The fury of night approaches. Gone are the runway light and clear cleat moorings defying gale and ocean. Time to slip and slide as feet find purchase in solidarity with season.

We are not adept but gifted in things beyond all cleverness. In perpetuity finding rest and refitting by the gift that never stops aplenty. Oh, to see the rise of last hill and valley.