Understandable, your reaction to the wind. It’s late November and the snow is coming soon. Don’t forget the charm that Autumn first delivers as we prepare for darkness of the dawn. Recall the warmth of the fire in December, as a reminder of the Love of God.

This is the time for all those trials to produce positive defense against Winter’s raging dawn. Perfected by the pressures and persecution of time and happenstance we now stand sharply, leaning into the torrent clutch of midnight sleet. Sleeping soundly we lay down the burden of yesterday’s event gone.

Tomorrow is our resting place a day beyond the curve or down the worm hole’s racing posture. Ejected into scene upon situation upon circumstance we remember the tools provided, for sight, right and might. We grasp at reconciliation with the whispering voice of God as we left for this mission in the madness. We dash to finish as the tape and crowd erupt with pleasure at our passing.

Kneeling at those burnished feet fearing the moment raised to confront eyes of fire. The wire broken, the fire extinguished the process complete or so we imagined. Finding ourselves privy to details beyond veils we set our sails for the universal horizon. To a world misunderstood and good beyond measure at the pleasure of the Lord Almighty. His Will been done.

In moments of desperation those words and phrases that come to mind whisper locution complex and divine. Sometimes I must cry to gain perspective diffracted by my tears to see years beyond my story into glory’s hand upon the sequel. Days starved of brilliance filled with periodic delay in response and carriage define the stark voice of humility spoken truthfully in deference of my pride.

Where are the maps of paths not ventured, the roads and turns not taken the lost dreams and wishes of a man who thought not about victory but more upon lack of failure. Inadequate license no blame nor excuse for life unventured. Wishes filled with the folly of hope and hurried exuberance carry the fragrance of freshly picked grapes arranged bouquet and the quiet repose lacking fear for loss and regret.

Beset by the whispers of fallen kings who in death found end to their braided wisdom call to those who would see themselves unwritten. Trying is not vying for mantle’s trophy looking for reasons to become when becoming is something within each man’s heart. We have been gifted all that need be found among the product of our passing. With Love and propensity at the false or verdant truth written in the pathways of neuron or impulse whispered answers to God’s founding of each life, to promise, purpose and eventual success.

in failure’s dream there is no theme or team or thriving push beyond the probabilities of inadequacy. Dreamt of days without darkness instead of embracing shoulder’s light. Running from the strokes near midnight rather than sleeping and in dream so wake to hear God’s Voice placing measured weight upon the scales of abundance and Joyous fulfillment. Life’s fair flutter a bird’s flight in slowed camera capture, aperture set to low light. We dream of colors but pray for the black and white of simplicities safety and security in the lack of mystery or surprise.

What then within the realm of possibility owned by the princes of hopeful and benign. Quiet recess upon the waves of present ponderance, demanding nuance, significance and portered passion’s. With helms and dark and chocolate night. So deeply obscure no way may be planned nor plotted to understanding. Only in correspondence with the unlikely and uncanny, innocence or anticipation and intuition may the keys to profit be snatched from opportunities clenched and mighty fist. Dreamed of, chased, mastered, overcome and never forgotten as something done not left to feed improbability’s maw.

Didn’t know until He told me, didn’t see until I was shown.

Didn’t have until he gave me, insight, Love and wisdom unknown.

Didn’t fight until the battle mattered for Kingdom Come and continued Life

Didn’t love until He taught me to lay my own life down for the sake of my Wife

Couldn’t fear until I knew Jesus, showing me an All Powerful Lord

Couldn’t Lose until I knew winning and learned the destiny I was headed toward.

Couldn’t dream until I had imagination beyond the things and gold of this world

Couldn’t live until I knew reason crystal clear upon the Cross unfurled

Discerning things, not my natural way, but His Holy Spirit teaches me to pray.

Where into things I have window’s view, so I don’t react the way I used to do.

The Truth is bold and unmistakable and the bond with Him simply unbreakable.

When Judgments call is too unwise I seek the tools that the Lord provides.

Didn’t know until I hope for a pathway through the dark within I woke.

Didn’t stand by my own hand took the help of Savior and what He’d planned

Didn’t dream of eternal life, barely making it through daily strife until He spoke

Didn’t wake until God said careful now to lift your head, come to me that you be fed.

Big sausage raindrops Tears, threatening the Earth as they landed sending shock waves across the lake of my interrupt. Heaving, leaning sideways to see the clock hands remembering that time is relevant even in the height of my all out emotional savagery.  A song played that I could barely recall and the words matched the heartbreak she gave me as she walked down those broad windswept stairs into memory. What better to remember the complete loss of control or the gift of not having any control over the vexing cramps in my face and side as the world had turned to Earthquake?

Farming out reason for a new ticket to abandon of emotional palsy. Imagining the permanency of upset I rolled and tried to rise to one knee, but even my joints had befallen heartache’s plunder. Pitching forward to some frail attempt at yoga pose, forehead to formica and faintail skyward I ceased feeling pain as it all shut down. Sunday morning I awoke my nose two inches from kitchen table, wondering why the lights being on didn’t matter then realizing the sunrise threatened memory of yesterday’s loss. Wondering into the disarray of recall attempting to piece together some adequate understanding of the disruption to my universe. She had gone and now it was time to face it, tears, sagging chin, inadequate reserve but the remainder of a tall tale told that men do not really need women. I held to that lie with all my strength and purpose for it was the only island available for mooring upon the seven seas of abandonment.  I vowed with a wry smile of quintessential joy to be happy catching fish and eating coconuts for eternity.

Then came the phone call, if I had seen the bottom I now found the floor was just an illusion for support keeping me from the bottomless pit into which I now descended. It was her Sister, she had just left the hospital to tell me of the accident. What accident I said and then my descent began, freefall, no hope, endless despair as she had not only left me in this world but now resided in the next.

Cold Stones, Clear Water, Dusty-blue wintery skies. Warm bones, Son or Daughter, voice in side reduces you in size. Hallowed name, and baited breath, with every fiber you’ve got. Sans blame, escaping death, with perfect blood we’ve been bought.

Pine and harbor, morning fog, sits one half mile out to sea. Fine of faith and ardor, no miry bog, resists my desire to be free. Bleached white, fire at night, baptized in spiritual flame. No two the same, loved before sight, Saved by His wonderful Name.

So Near to Me

Come a little closer so that you’re all that I can see.

Captured in the moment I can only say.

Leave it all behind me cause you wanted it that way.

Storm’s Frost, nothing’s lost. Dressed to meet the courier. Standing attendant to the King. Stammered thought, sit still we were taught. Damaged in no measure. Too small to understand. What had been planned leading us to ought.

Casually demanding too perfect for the Queen. Seldom scene alarming, superficially disarming. Pride to rest, untamed by clarity’s calm. Sweetly humming psalm, palm to chin, tears be caught, gathering so deeply the reasons that we fought.

Willing to follow Him, as the cup of iniquity is nearing the brim. Full to the top with our sins, waiting for His return when the peacetime begins. Hallelujah chorus isn’t meant to bore us but to call us to surrender to the Sovereign I AM.

Divine, refine, been losing our mind, trying to find the way to be free from this jail, Overcome by your power and might, Keep the sleeping Lord within my sight. Abraham, then Moses lain up in roses only to see the savior raised on a tree

Nothing still comes for free, Wanna be what He meant for me, spreading the good news for the world to see. A drop of salvation can stop the invasion transforming this nation roots that are Pagan filled with Grace, great big smile on each face.

What are believers but Kings, subscribers to all the Lord Brings. In love with the Song that He sings. Princes and priests and daughters delight, gonna keep the oil in my lamp overnight, cause if he calls my name then when timing is right.

In circles of reason I find myself lost dreaming of simple answers that always make sense. Delight in the voice of the Savior above me as His quiet still voice remands me to calm. At once found in memory of things I never knew, that there are so many flavors and shades that make blue. With nothing to conquer and so much less left to do I walk down the pathway and point them to You.

Stammering, clambering, yearning to get into the shadow of the passing world.  Hoping to hide hoping to abide as closely to the Word as speed and gravity allow. But for now, the pause is the perfect play. waiting, watching, hovering on the backside of tomorrow, escaping detection through making no play.  What you wish to stay, well that depends on the amends and how the wind whistles and bends the grass without breaking.  Forsaking matters better left forgotten then pursued, navigating the feud that ensued. There is no breath in the words held back only silence and hiss and a mild remiss as we partake of the bliss in surrender.  There is no tender or gold nothing to watch when we’re old, nor to be bought or sold for true ownership is proteomic resemblance.

Dressed in black not out for mourning or to escape the light of dawn’s morning but as shield to discovery by night shark.  For in the dark they dwell, the rage and they yell, practicing for hell, the best I can tell.  Conscience follows the righteous mind as clarity precedes evil’s permissiveness and under duress and shy man will tell a tall mountain of tales, of fish nearly caught larger than whales and mermaids grand tails, or black purple sails and seas with no tide.  With a broad drunken grin we were welcomed right in as the parlay depended on password. Once on board the the double edged sword bought us secrecy in the belly of beasts.  But those unafraid are handsomely paid by the answers to the prayers that they have bent knee and made to the God who doesn’t fade from intervening in the meaning of all that His grand plan foresees.  Paid for the birth and for much that its worth gave two-pence to the quarter master for bedding.

Shedding the burden of dream nothing it seems carries with it the yesterday’s density. The mass of sorrow and pain filled pardon have only softened not hardened resolve bread of surrendering concern for peace, pleasure and humble hysteria. It time, the crimes diminish leaving polished finish and gloss from the moss fallen from stone’s catapult or thunder. Lightning shatters darkness but loses grip as it slips to the memory of miniscule moment where the dark seeks dominion. But Light in the night is not forgotten by morning’s homage to creation. Cessation, abrogation of right and measure of faulty weight beckoned with two fold legal authority to sparsity and cause. Put pause to conquest and still the fight or flight to seat before the calm quiet pleasures of a King who gives you counsel.

Yonder the just have burrowed to discover their lost cornerstone, fallen free from the moorings of mismanagement, into the valley of despair and lost recognition. A position for which the basest seek deliverance and shall never be proper home of the righteous. Remember the weather of raucous days of dilemma and displeasure, when you knew neither the countenance nor King. Bring to mind the dross yet more to loss of Motus operandi or fallen features of buildings erected for self reliance. What shall freedom’s motto bring to the castle moor to mystery. With history so bland it demands relief from belief in the motif of forgotten springs, rings and scenery bewildered.

Something talented and refined, penned in genius not simply rhymed.  Limited resource not well defined most of my acting is pantomimed. Regale us with linguistic intent in-depth content that makes our hearts lament. Two sticks rubbing is not a fire nor my wisdom something to inspire. You know of Chaucer, Shakespeare and Jonathon Light Tremain it’s confounding that you cannot recreate their spark again. Perhaps your passion is worthy of this ilk but burlap sacks shall never be smooth as silk. They may still carry the gaggle of your geese but as to magic this thinking inevitably shall miserably cease. A recompense of Dogma’s Log with portage hithe and a harry dog.

To death’s door we run but never cross foundation’s passed or transom’s loss. Forsooth the rage of sleep unawaken eternity’s bed to which we’re taken. As men believe do they relieve the necessity and piety with which beloved grieve. For perish not shall we say loudly and walk aloft not quite so proudly. For Death destroyed and so the cage pins removed on curtained stage. From soul to saint from man to mystery flourishing Brothers among the Sistery. To Sovereign’s phrase my pencil’s taught to leave what we bought not what we brought. And Soul become a wrinkled time to be lost in consonants of sleepless rhyme having been forgotten by both space and time, but to God’s eye’s and ear’s be caught in heaven’s poem of which we’re wrought.

Sing of praise of fearless life with burden’s few and absent strife. To dawns so perfect that skies not yet made shall see them dance with entries paid. All clad in moss of rocks sourly tossed but land shiny side to skies aloft. As dream depicts you in the mind the colors of a wealthy mind. All raised in green and lean as whit to hollow out and laugh a bit. To stream in flurry of snow’s white crown with blues so deep they turn to brown. An auburn night a starless knit do cherish tears we wept unfit. To place of honor without the stance of bolstered pride in arrogance. A gift to many love and life to Heaven’s Groom we’re made to wife. To infinity’s blossom to what unfold never wearied and lesser old. I offer words as only proxy my clever stab at sheepish foxery. To sleep in rest without death’s grip in to eternity each does slip. To ride with God across the sky to have forgotten when or even why. Believing men shall never die.

Did you hear the cry of the blossoms and the fall of the rain as it bounced out its rhythmic call for God’s return? Does the sound of the Earth as it yearns for its saviour awaken that time is at hand? Have you prayed for the innocent and they lay so disturbed in distress while the wicked crave their last or inhibit their first breath? What more must the wind whisper among you before you see storms coming near? How may we arouse you to the voice of creation prepared for the way of the Lord? You see, inside of me are spiritual alarms wailing and wondering when all with awake to the truth? How much pain, how much blatant desire for the fulfillment of salacious intent must we witness before establishing clearly that man has lost all moral regard having been replaced by carnal quests.

What marks the Path to Life but the call of Spirit upon a once wicked heart? We are led to be transformed not by brightness, cleanliness and purity but through a vision of our wicked root and the dark poisoned ground that promises infection. Only when we have seen the palsy and petulant passions of man gone his own route may we then seek the skinny path to redemption. The Law delivers not but a reflection of our sins against God’s Righteous command. We are left in a conundrum and maze from which there is only one exit and that requires a knowledge of the depth to which our depravity has fallen. Without seeing the black we shall not wonder, cry out for and seek the light with a craving that demands and answer from the Creator. So go along in your pretty little song until the pain of your desperate circumstance delivers you thinking to the desperation natural to such plight.

To God He said, run from the Wrath to Come. But it is He who sponsors wrath shall I not run from Him and escape it? That is the mystery and the beginning of wisdom found in God. He has set a time limit on our disobedience when the dam of his patience shall be over run by the fury of His displeasure and demand for compliance with the rules of His Creation. Praise be to this Loving and Furious God He knew before the beginning of time that He would need to provide a Bridge to Freedom from this self-created dilemma into an eternity by His Side, So He prophesied about becoming Flesh, then bore himself as a Son into humanity to provide the one lamb, pure enough to pay the sin debt of all Men. He became a Man, putting away His Glory and Power subjecting Himself to the pressures that all men find common and in so doing paved the Pathway to Life through His voluntary death upon the Cross. A death that was undeserved yet given freely that it would cancel and pay the price of the deaths of all men who would believe upon this marvelous sacrifice, no god of mortals would ever venture. This is the complex Love of God, so multi-dimensional and difficult to fathom that we find it immeasurable through common words and understanding. Science can onlyu explain the rational, the natural the explainable, Spirituality gives us a taste of what makes God Himself, but only through the indwelling Spirit of God given us in Christ’s ascension can we fully begin to surmise the Splendor that is God’s Righteousness. It is a language reserved for those who have born the difficulties of crucible in a quest of sanctification to once and finally find God in glorification of the Spirit and Body Man.

To find Him we need feel that glorious pain provided by this temporary existence pressuring us to the extent we cry out for delivery and redemption to a God we know in our Spirit has always been there. We find that mustard seed of faith to believe upon the Work of Jesus on that Cross in defeating this powerful prince of the air here in this realm. We accept Him as the Bridge the defining singularity, the only Path to Righteousness and curtailment of our Working, foolish war with Almighty. We are bought back from slavery. Our price is paid and we find a new hope, new life, transformation and succor for the extent of ETERNITY. This is not a one time call but abundance of Life Everlasting. We shall never die. Do you comprehend we don’t die at the end of this life, certainly this body, this human body perishes as it must but akin to the larvae enter Chrysalis it becomes the seed of Glorified man. What we become is only foretold by the Words and Appearance of Christ after death and resurrection. That is the mystery the apprehended hope upon which each of us hang our joy.

You say you want the Light well show me. You say you want to find the way to erase the old woman or man, well it has always lain before you. It is a thing of volition, surrender, contrition for the blackness we have each seen sown within our mortal man. This is a personal decision not to be made with man or beast but by ourselves with the God of our Creation. You see the blackness and pain of my words and claim I have never shown the Path to Life, You must look again to the Joy everlasting captured in mere words. I give a memory and a vision of the night but I always delight in the splendor of my Redemption and immortality in God through Christ Jesus. Perhaps it is time for you to gather the eyes to see Eternity? Will you join me and never die but be delivered into the presence of God, adopted into the Kingdom of Heaven, born again to the New Woman or Man He intended from the outset of this glorious mystery that only ends if you deny Him? Will you join me in the Love of God demonstrated by Salvation a salvation from which you will arise renewed, the old forgotten and eventuality healed by our acceptance of His Promise that we were Healed, Made Whole, redeemed, born again, finished and renewed upon that Cross of Calvary.

The Darkness is unforgiving, no succor, no relief, the consuming maw, coincidentally the same as the Lake of Fire. No life, sustenance, comfort or satisfaction for that is all that was pursued on Earth. Nothing of substance, potency or potential for eternity but the temporary cache of perfumed objects intended to slake impermanent desire. Caution thrown to wind with ample warning waved off haphazardly over limits driving head long into abandon with lights off. Damn the logic, forget the wisdom of the elders and ages gone bye, remember only the jones of beating heart and quickened breathing craving another cap full of nightmare.

Where has reason been buried? Who knows the path to recovery or replenish? Are there farms where logic is grown, determination planted, counsel and judgement ample in display and dispensation? How shall the children thrive when we offer neither the practical thinking skills nor application to ponder themselves to the center of the maze lost with no critical ability to find exit from Labyrinth’s hunger for more? Then we proudly counsel separation from the benevolent source of promise waiting for all who seek, sound and wisdom. What manner of illness causes men to lose all conscience, counsel and craft yet proclaim science their god with no equations to prove it so?

The Light shines, forgiving, warming but relentless the eyes that crave the darkness of crypt of castle. It burns the skin of those with no life or shut in from creation seeking morbid hobby in spell and sacrament. To all that is green it is the purifying measure of life to transform food to energy and disease to inertness. It is life to the living and death to the dying. It is the guide to formation of thoughts to ponder complicated puzzle and life born difficulty. It is the quiet voice beyond the snares of wicked hunter. It is home to those living abundantly, seeking harvest and the guide by which good works are conducted. The Light is the beginning and what lies beyond the end. It is God and I want Him. Lord Let there be light for me, separated from darkness to grow and flourish in the warmth of your brilliant and rewarding promise of love.