How is uncorroborated narrative suddenly acceptable fact yet every question, opinion, theory or amateurs’ reporting classified, “misinformation” when these submissions clearly stand in juxtaposition to the tolerated Foreign Media Narrative? Is taking a counter point no longer an admired quality in a Berean society? How are foreign reporters covered by our First Amendment protections yet Mothers and Fathers expressing outrage at the local school curriculum are seemingly immediate targets by the FBI who protects those rights? What is the legal definition of Corruption to the point of dysfunction of Public organizations and Law Enforcement? We can withstand the debate that they so clearly fear and wish to prohibit.

These are legal questions. Apparently the false powers in authority are deathly afraid of the citizen journalist. Why else would they be policing through mandate those amateur researchers and producers unless losing control of the narrative effectively leads to their loss of power? Never in the history of this country have so many feared the danger of opinion, public awareness and revelation as those currently in power. We must investigate why they have spun up professional censors in a free country? There is a simple truth here that speaks more loudly than the censors may muster.

It is clear that those currently in administrative authority cannot, must not and will not investigate past crimes no matter how egregious, plausible or evidentiary the claims. Why? When folks don’t want you going into the past there is something they wish left there and it ain’t misinformation, it’s un discussed and undiscovered fact. We have never been a fearful people until perhaps the advent of the Global Terrorist created by Proxy hawks. And the fear is not of the terrorists themselves but the Police State government that created the ethos. One could safely surmise that these global war threats were invented for the purpose of developing those police state powers as those fearful relinquished rights in exchange for false promise of security.

This adds constancy to the argument that opinion scares the heck out of the deep state. They fear America waking up and determining their own authority instantly dissolving, abating, dispelling and beguiling these minority attempts at Empire. So, we must make decisions based on our own self interest and egalitarian desires as Stewards of American health. It is not longer acceptable to allow the corrupt to run those institutions that by definition must impartially and relentlessly defend the will and well being of their people. It may even require stepping up and demanding a complete revision or relaunch of the US Federal and State Government Structures instituting new language in our Documents to protect from corruption of this nature ever again blossoming as nightshade across this nation.

Additionally, though we aided in the creation of these circumstances we cannot but ignore the Evil integrated in the parties formed against our well being. To do so creates the false understanding that we fight this party or that party without acknowledgement of the principalities’ and powers pushing them forward and those sponsoring or advocating our destruction. The absolute evil nature of those in power are evidence of our powerlessness against these spiritual rivals. However, praise be to Almighty God He defeated them on the Cross of Calvary two thousand years ago. He living in the hearts of those who believe maintains the authority and Power of God’s Objective Truth permanently disabling their subjective attempts at narrative deception and lies. That being said without the Spirit’s protection all humans remain influenced or worse completely controlled by this Dominion.

Whatever you believe if the First Amendment Falls those that follow its foundation will certainly follow. We stand at the promontory or precipice of America’s future or history dependent upon perspective. The thoughts, words and actions you produce will include you either in its demise or continued success due to superior heart, mind and action. You Decide, Choice has always been the greatest power in your basket of talents, treasures and faith. Use it wisely.

To You; All those things of fairytales and bright old movies about family that survived the wilds to become life’s robust example. Windows so bright and clean that birds sought their dirtying to preserve themselves from crashing. Owls hooting in warning to the rodents entertaining somehow their safety assured. Dogs curled on the clean towels dreaming of warm nights in summer.

We don’t get there solely by chance or participation. Reason stands ready but is a sad option for those who will invest in the wisdom necessary for salt and season. A tad bit short when planning sets about corrupting or removing those who make it happen. Self reliance is poor foundation especially when self has not yet ripened or happens to be filled with the ills of a world that itself knows too much darkness. Youth is a trodden gift when the mud seeks its capture.

Wide awake to the pregnancy and possibility. Man need not comprehend deeper math to see the aspirations and talents of the younger blossom into world changing momentum and hope when nurtured. Covet not those things that regale the tales of our own telling but rather sweetest memories of things grown for the simple objective of seeing them become. What shall be the fate of a world where men and women fully participate in what may be done by those ready to deny themselves for the benefit of others.

Certainly there are those who want something more than may be grown or captured by the individual dreams or achievement? The rich potency of Earth’s abundant life is found in the people from whom may talent, treasure and imagination be coaxed or sponsored. The hope filled dreams of a child who suddenly finds the trust needed to share them and believe they may be real, rather then hidden fantasy and despondent wishes. What that takes is the loving unselfish insight and patience of adults.

These are not our children to grow yet our future depends upon their imagination and will to sustain. Therefore though they shall not be mine to shape or measure they shall receive every dose of assistance that I can muster. Perhaps even the love that is given their folks will be the catalyst of victory. May it then be any love I may give that God’s Hand guides in offering or freely given as gifting, comfort or suggestion. I know not what may become of them but I know that the kinetic energy of Sovereign planning and expectation is built within everything He molds.

Implausible my hope that remorse laughs openly. However the victorious are never driven by the realities and cautions but by the probabilities and exponential gifting of challenging the impossible. Tell me not child the things you’ve lost or never gotten but the things upon which you hope in youthful imagination.; For in your dreams are the pleasure of God’s crafting. Allow not the dimming divinations of this world to lower the heights to which you may elevate. Jump, dance, dream, hope, sing and figure. For the limits whatever they may be shall be exceeded, overcome or excepted in confrontation.

Songs forgotten, bouncing round the perimeter of my mind. Places and faces gone to memory arrive as splendid reminder of life well lived. In Joy, pausing briefly to measure the gathering smiles upon cheeks so bright that August remained jealous. Dancing to the rhythm of prayers answered and the welling sounds of rumbling bellies full of promised wishes. Unfolding wings ruffled their feathers to call the faithful to homage.

Is she the one with the light of sun in her hair and eyes? What prizes freely given amount to the adoration of a humble child? In dreams the rooms seem larger than life, when reality reduces our sight to reason. Resist inclination to bother in argument. Only found in peace are the best aspects of respect and quiet. Never teetering on the precipice of unforgiveness or burden. Simply challenged by the best things to be found in good living.

Step away from the anger of the moment. Find your victories in the silence and great hope. Smiles of laughter and the promise of each moment. Shed for those things better than the fight. Unto reason surrendering in wisdom. Finding purpose in relinquishing the plight. Letting live what should never caused him purport. Give up that scepter and the crown that drives fury in your heart. Leaving the land of those with wanton vengeance. Remanded and replenished to be bringer and bearer of Light.

Almost there never stopped to think on Promise. Washed in hope a place that doubt could not become. Sword held high gleaming in the brightness of the morning. The flags it waves as soldiers march northward side by side. Our help is strong but not susceptible to moments. Nor will of pride the guide beyond our shame. It is this day for which we fight together. Hope in the morn when we shall receive our bride. To the wind I whisper of time borrowed, sold for the chance to battle one more night. Into the dawn we’re riding without murmur as armor stands against each assault even those inside.

They showed for vengeance. Stripped of fear and doubt they pushed a mighty throng up to the windows of evidence. In quiet moments the clouds breathed, drenching the deluge as summer took the stage. Inventing audacity the leaders seeking nothing good mounted crescendo. The surplus of ill will was palpable. Leaving a bitter residue of mounting displeasure for all to reckon.

In calculation the governor wept. Fear his only counsel, flight his only answer. Gone were the idle threats against overwhelming response to tyranny. For moments he took safety in a plan for escape to higher ground. Commercial trackers deployed the mercenary crew with allegiance to dollar pressed on before him to safety’s reach.

Slowed by obstacles unseen and misunderstood stimuli they flinched at the dark and light. No Quarter would be shown as the dams of repression were shattered and overrun by the wrath of those enslaved. Passions would not be repressed for good patience. the Lust of lives slighted and children wounded has overridden the quest to remain peaceful. They wanted heads, blood, money and destruction. Such is the will of mob pent man.

What was done this night would be regretfully celebrated for ages by those who sought justification in the demonstration of man’s frustration. What evolution they claimed champion would be lost in the actions of a scant resolve. Compassion absent as God stepped back to let men see the folly of their supremacy. Brute beasts speaking and delivering evil for evil when to rise above one must demonstrate restraint. These halls would forever be blackened by the fear, anger and spite of those who believed their own righteousness sufficient.

What then of mornings quiescence? What solemn resolve would heal the wounded plight? What moorings would tether the passions of those gone wandering to the still mountain of right action? There is no righted ship. No ground to be named or remain in holiness. Only the blood upon lip and teeth having been drained from grey matter overtaken by the emotions of man’s intent. For naught they sought good counsel in oracle. Who could only utter, “For shame”.

In my voice stepped away. So much to say on such a wintry day. As heroes breathe the smoke topped mountain shakes. Finding some dreams are too hard to face. And aspired morn to stop the night. As freedoms grasp retains the fight. All lost to gain all gathered at King’s Foot. Assembled for reason, rhyme and joy on sandy beach. As waves turn south the billows roll. Forming faces in the moonlight and wetting the pool of souls. No notes or sound just trembling ground, fooled by faces upon the wind. And in this forgiveness a burden paid. Stayed by quiet in the restless moon. All hope on red as paddle turns and sea spray intimidates the moss.

This brigand buy and treasure’s tossed. To land I say bring us that home be bound. Within hearts too curried and jaded by dreamer’s plight into the fray without words we write upon the charts of history’s charm. No fright or fear captive to courageous brand. In times gone too soon we found joy in memory of song. Our hearts gone limp by the rank of passions favored. My misgivings were never meant for sharing. My pressing lips reminder of the love we can never hold. For things born upon breeze must be carried hither hence. When quenched of fire’s frond charcoal upset cleansing wish. Blackened to all spite with no fancy dare or dance of merry Lord, our days measured by the humble Queen.

Valley’s oppression is lost when sight of sunlit sky meets mountains cast upon the founding of cloud and silk. To brazen eve we acquire temper and peace to speak with God. These are not the quests of mortals envisaged by acquisition and ambition’s lure. The pulls and draw of love and paint in scenery against a mortal’s imaginary keep. And dawn too close that chill do children shake. As plurality of purpose not shortened by the limitations of incandescent will. To the brink bring us pleasure. As we brave the territory beyond the impossible hope of man.

Her hope filled eyes and tear soaked face absorbed my attention defining time. Forever seen instantly upon the canvas of a woman’s heart. Knowing too much and feeling altogether more than the heart can justify. Answers to questions unanswered and yet to be asked. For the times are upon all. This day is not to be wasted as so many we left frozen. No growth or heart reserved, planting things to grow past the winter’s curving. In green and gold all things bordered leading to our plenty. And foundry’s fire emerges giving hope to sadness and sack cloth doubt. For our voices heard in the horses plodding hoof whisper of the end to fame, slavery and unrequited love.

Thought about screaming, but peace had the better half of me. Into darkness I scrambled. Anticipation unnecessary, as the mystery would play exactly as it was meant. A lark promised relief from quandary as worry and regret promised their inadequate controls would set me free from price of passion and pursuit. These are not the days of things lightly ventured, but days of dedication, accountability and victorious remorse as opportunity surprises and dwindles before me.

I pondered a teammate, someone with smiles, discernment and measured resolve latent with longevity. What breath does God give me to fill the lungs and light of life? Knowing without doubt that the ends are already figured. Calculated in the grand imagination of Sovereignty, a focus beyond parameter of my thinking. What then she squeezed as if bag pipe too swollen of throat clutched in the fears of Time and machine. The examples are surely set will I fail to seek answer when direction fully catered?

Step away from madness. Look to reason and wisdom as guides through folly and spite. The nights are never so long that the dawn’s promise cannot adequately resolve the prisons of calculus and reform. We squirm as any of this be surprise or miscalculation. Choice is not determined until made but the annals still know which choice will be made as if already chosen. Lay waste to the promulgated nightmare and faithless capitulation to dreams of desperate spirit. For pride is not our powder in battle but the hardened granite of purpose and perpetuity. Framed in Heaven’s understanding our hearts bask in painted deserts, pink moons and sun drenched harbor.

If but the swim, fly or dance we must find the shamelessness of folly. Take to the street not in embarrassment and pulse, but for hymn, and majesty and reason. Things carried by the propelling swells of faith. Resistant to the frail doubts of encumbered thinking. We praise the perfect name in certainty and hope. Apprehensive abundance of victory’s already acheived and promises sacrosanct and fixed.

Every movie laughed at me, failing to understand forever. Misunderstanding the simplicity of gravity, always looking for deeper meaning. Opportunity lost in mist of misappropriation. The Glory discovered in forethought of readiness. Knowing the heartache accompanying grasp in the truth of man’s power in mortality.

She stepped away from a man clearly unprepared. At some point destined to find himself in the productive wiles of temptation and trial. The outcome of this painful realization that rejoicing in growth came with the payment of the best things that life showed in handfuls. Wishing it worked out differently is the regret that growth delivers.

The circus Solaris in the temple of man’s self worship is the altar of our fears and tears. Man seeking dominance while losing partnership and cooperation. A sad testimony of irony and grace. What may be gained is found in what has been regrettably surrendered. A partnership in the sharpening and honing of what could be a man’s formal polish.

Stepped away from the device thinking that the burns could not happen. Only to awaken to stark sight of fears and trials following. No man may find that island that removes him from himself. In self help he wondered, picking at the scabs and scars thinking himself quite fancy. Yet the dawn of her mournful eye haunting to tear’s edge.\

Looking forward offers the difficulty we most fear in slumber. The dream to which unapplied reason and works is bereft of outcomes most pleasant. For the gifts of God are offered all but most are seldom readied, to capture and apply the salve and bathing grace of everlasting life. In the now we are found head’s tucked low from approaching or shadowing cloud. To see all that could be truth if my heart, mind and hand found ready.

Walked away into the darkness of my failures. Nothing resolved but the will to make it right. All along to have relied upon assumption. It all made sense when the silence came to life. So I just ran on and on into the labyrinth. Where I reside safe and calm in lefts and rights. There is no day and no frailty seeking solace. No chains of love or self-reliance to regard. Without reward the poverty stands welcome. The bitter truth that not knowing seldom brings. Reliant hope and the whispers of tomorrow. Of giants met and the tales that no one sings.

Sing on til dawn in the promises of reason. Wrapped in the love and the comfortable retreat. To dance alone is the reason for the card. So oft compelled by philosophies and pride. There is no pain as a man without his purpose. No Victory won as the Love reserved a King. Into the night I forget about those worries. Most often linked to the ebb and flows of tide. Humming along to a tune of purse and promise. In service to all the things within the gift of life. Way too late for me to wonder in life’s problem. This river long but not so deep or wide.

Into frames pass the lilies, halls and orchid. So soft and sweet the lyric and the rhyme. In conscience comes the courage of contentment. To be recalled oh so fondly in time’s passing. Massage effect upon treatments of dimension. The Strings resound in the risks of heaven’s envy. A wind made bright in the dawn’s control of night. Kissed amber cheek as a child approaches innocence. Into the day running filled with such exuberance. A knuckle pinched til the pain produces grimace. Precursor to the joys upon her face.

What then my hope if foolishness regards me. So fondly still I move in wounded plight. To sally on filled in passion and such fury. Resounding hearts so swept up in the strife. To be addressed in validating moments. And held beyond the contempt of outright dismissal. Just garden’s gleam in the ruby and the auburn. Nursing the tear brought to a poet’s heart. She sat in perpetuity no motion, word or song. The breath so deep the night so very long. For my behalf I spoke politely of her abandon. Up til the day had given way to dusk and dawn. So hard to yield the marshal of a warrior. And trust reward of each smile, frown or yawn.