Cool, red sky morning. Purple poked a hole through the dusty black, anticipating arrival. A chirping reminder in the misty, morning march. Smoky clouds. Sweet the call to dawn.

Uptown a young man found his sea legs. Determined to do whatever it takes to conquer all the elements. A passing hand, corporate gang signs exchanged, as fury lingered in corridors beyond.

Whimsical patches of pillowed grey with highlights of maroon and white. Anxiety speaks. The gathering of personalities drowns out the voice of peace. Unkempt souls, denouncing their refinement offer rage and sage at altars on the subway.

We are dressed as the men who hold the pantry. In faith and depth we find shallow the public ponds of passion. Collecting dissipated heat we proclaim ourselves genius though others disagree.

Bring me those who would find their freedom. Defending with heart and hope the sweat of bloody brow. To build upon a dream of something left unspoken. A vision seen of places yet defined.

Incorporate the Gospel. Of flotsam and fealty, we pine in days remembered. Singing hymns and pious ramblings with words too large for teeth and tongue. The Brethren bid them struggle.

A bubble, a flower and petals strewn asunder. A murdered mystery of love. Bereft of the brief innocence in finding. We pitch headlong into the abyss of misunderstanding. Wanting what we were told was proper tomorrow. Holding to the hem of today.

Frequently standing atop projections I fail to explain the image of my ineloquence. Infrequent testimony of bliss and harm I shadow the grace with simple self-attachment. Finding nothing but a pot of old gold at rainbow’s end that simply converts to nothing purchased at Ended Days. Where is the pleasure of this treasure, I expended breath and might to locate and steal from defeated leprechaun, liberal or reformed, truth-teller preaching merriment? When statues speak it all begins to reek of poisoned paradise.

Miscreants have entered through the front door of the palace, even now feeding your children through straws banned in their nativity. Mirrors of hopelessness flash upon cave wall while everyone tries their darndest to pretend the shadows are real as they have seen the sun arising. Angels of Light are still, well, simply servants of the King. How then will emperor follow fallow casting to crush a world he was never meant to own? In decency, I must tell the naked king he is wearing nothing in front of children.

They don’t like my meter, measure, rhythm or key changes and all I can say in ad hominem is, who invited you any old way. Standing when now fashionable to kneel before pictures of an imaginary king, sheltered in the combinatory image of Zeus, Socrates and Aristotle pointing to sky and Earth promising thunder by four thirty. When in the throne room my reverence thrust me to my face before Sovereign explanation. Reality is when your knees will no longer hold you in the presence of your Maker whether unsupported or contrite you are pleased the salty sea of glass.

Your red shoes do not earn the kiss upon that ring. For Gold is not god but one letter removed just as the number of the man is just this side at the sealed door of perfection. We are not heroes of our own proclamation. And millions killed or lands stolen in legality or legacy are simply contortions of a proper heart for Messiah. This breaking was crafted before the beginning of your age, as God Himself dropped the gauntlet at the feet of man and angel. Wood, hay and stubble, metal, birds or madness can never be the king of a heart made in Heaven’s crucible venture. The products of genetics cannot make the seed that tends, starts or remakes Creation. That is only done by the Word a Word spoken by tongue and mind that sliced time, mass and gravity from the slab of nothing.

Chomping at a bit ill fitted to my bite. Working puzzles in the dark, hoping with candor to impress the Queen. No service shall solicitate gravitas and certitude. Only mild wisdom finds freedom in folly, laughing upon the uproarious films of one’s own missteps, down the back steps in flight to find accommodation in reason. Prioritizing the forgotten, the misdirected and the egoistic. Sheltering from a storm that just won’t leave the stage, quivering the trees looked on in wonder. In the misty dawn one rode home to the smell of molasses and birchwood.

Where the sky befriends each cloud. Found loudly humming the melody to something beyond scope or comprehension. An old song sung brightly with colors not yet welcomed to the rainbow. But in each prison there remains a bird dreaming, of escape, no grasping at the memories of flight. Once again aloft to skirt the depth in diving and fight the limits of physics in lesser and greater sphere. No fear just plain excitement as ride reaches apex and gravity beckons.

To the leash I need restraint. Forgotten boundaries and excess burden of imaginary promise. One such told me of the kindled feathered fire breathing in bellowed belches to quench or stoke the flames of magic, steam and anthem. Process the quickened heart allowed to love unbounded. As flowers in Moon’s light, dancing to dark silhouettes and shadow. We have hoped and treed the squirrels, polecats and racoons found scamping. To let them fun wild at dawn in the market square of plunder. What we recall was not much at all.

Torches held highly to shine the monstrous light of pursuit en company. Heightened bell tones leaving a mark as they seared the inside of ear and mind. For this day would ne’er be forgotten, written in the moorings of spaces, places and daydreams. Fashion and the mages of desk driven madness, practicing alchemy to feed to chemistry of a life gone to seed. Are we to calculate the excess, removing the dross with scant shod blade and waiting for the refire. Immaculate crimson gold sought to sift the wheat and chaff within me. As I stood naked for the toll. Not knowing nor recalling passing this bridge in such a hurry. We fought for miles with barrels full of inches and misspellings.

Syntropic recall all emerging in reflex action to the call of wild nights yet measured. Do not abandon the shores of telescopic humor, booms of laughter reverberating in the hours of morn, spliced in before cold rise and slumber. Into the wood to chase the good in moods set to music yet written. Born of space without time prose without rhyme in a day yet remembered by those forgotten. Eclectic spurred onward to sky’s touched only by the breath of vision and purpose we leapt for greatness and fell soundly into the hands of leather which bore us.

Trying to be full attracts flies and all manner of indoctrination, folly and supposed sustenance from the feeble and the dark. The depths of masquerade invite the layered and the slight. Hands fast, openings determinedly exploited by the hungry and the opportunistic. No innocence left in the cached hues of Peet and bog. Buried to be lost to recognition and forgotten by the flowers of morn. We are kin to noon and abhor the hour of chant and curse.

Thespian with reluctance is a man who tells truth when lies are in the script. Anodized by walking through fires that neither burn nor tarnish but brighten to reflective countenance. In the quest to be repeated I shout sharp tales and livid lines of imaginary vintage, but few hear and less retain or second. A stout Amen springs from rear of the forgery. Will he want or won’t he will to do what the bill retains?

In the glass he sees the seas and feels the breeze as the nighttime tease’s morning. As dolphin leapt and dark things crept in from the shadowed forest. All sought joy, both girl and the boy wanting nothing more that wanting and waiting for nothing more than everything they’d been promised. Overwhelmed is not reason for revolution but seeking the comfort of the beveled edge. Solace in loving beyond measure, with the reserved pleasure awaiting me at mid state’s crossing. Left dried and over done by a warm bout of sun that split the winter wide open, there is no mooring for the man soaring the skies of hereafter, dashing parsecs through Orion. Star ward to the brisk running rivers of sunlight and dream.

What kept you screamed the clock having lost grip on the soul of man? What drivel tales will be told of the bold run you made to escape the shadow of the sun? Into relief I pass all passion and power to find the bold comfort of these days spent in delivery. Launching into magic, not sorcery of spirit but the things beyond deep thinking. To see the dreaming heart of God. He imagined me in a thousand different seasons with a million melted hearts standing against the carpeting waves pummeling my glass to crimson valor. For Love is the embrace of those beyond control of time, those days of wonder lost to grip of man or angel. The roads beyond the moon leading into endless sky where birds have led us longing.

Father in prayer let me honor your outcomes. Let me not spend idle time seeking bounty, but instead praying for those people you love enough to have died for them. Laying down in sacrifice not for recompense or reward but for the hope of their survival and proper finish. Lord let them all bring Glory to you a thousand-fold while my joy is complete in your receipt. Bestow upon me that mercy to watch the wonderful men you’ve made do all those miracles to please their King. Let me lay down my life for others not for my own whims of wonder.

By nature and example these things may never occur without your Hand and Will upon them. For they be miracles of which men are incapable without your powerful Spirit to guide fill and empower. Let all those who would call themselves by your Mighty name become well versed in conversation with the king. Lord let them know that miracles will occur to bring all to the wonders of our Sovereign God. Please find my hope and love as inspiration and humble request for your Glory. Thank you for the patience that you’ve lent me as I often rely upon your love to keep me in waiting hope for that which is yet to come. Reveal yourself Lord that all may know and find peace, everlasting Peace in Love for You.

In my dreams I see eternity take shape around us. What a day that moment when we find our final place at the foot of the throne to love, serve and be your Forever Family. I am entrenched in a battle that has been won by King and God, defeating the mythical mists and spirit of evil, time, death and hell. Lord we are beyond the reach of those once found us captive. In your merciful love we have the power to pray and know that the quest if righteous and certain. Lord let me stay in your presence always forgetting to once again look upon the shiny things of this world as they dullen to our heavenly sense.

We are eternal fooled by our temporary existence into believing that this world continues its clutch and mastery of our hearts and minds. But we are children of the King with all that means much of which is beyond conception or understanding rather of mighty promise. I look to the some day in peace, that wonderful day when I will become enlightened to the reality of God, the truth of Heaven, the remaking of the World in Your Image without fear, death or wickedness. These things are the cravings of this man’s will and heart. Father hear my call to you for the finality of your wisdom and intention. Lord patiently waiting on this field of battle where enemy has fled and those hearts and eyes await knowing you. What Joy may be found and measured in this man’s heart.

Immolated purple and crushed cherry. Golden harmony pulling tears that would not otherwise be offered for peace. In expression we find the words and comfort of compassion given to the impoverished, poor and often least remembered. What glory in establishing hope? The cold wet earth stands ready for ice or seed. The sun standing watch over the valley of indifference. What grows in hearts found sullen, hugging despair?

These are the bright mornings of our recall. Turning back not to black and ruin but to morns of reason, expectation and creation. We have been freed of the burdens of our own involvement or duty. The headlines proclaim that joy made happiness irrelevant. For mountains do not hate the sky, tickling its fancy. Nights do a dance with light of day. Knowing that for a time to observe humility we all must step away from the passions.

Driven to be more than secured by war, sweat and elbows. We follow the wings of birds who know the season. Flight time in transit, overlooking the masses. Window to this and other worlds I enter the portal and find myself at the foot of glassy seas. Fashioned fancy and romance to rival fiefdoms. We sorted and pressed to deliver a product consistent with calamity but were reminded all along of master’s intent. Rekindling fires long frozen in pits untended we set the flames of yesteryear to spark future fealty.

What dance against the teal and sand driven sky? Hand in hand we paraded in a quest for honor with mouths half filled in sand as our words reflect the dust we’d begun. We yearned for anything green or slow running milky creeks of mountainous winter. Into our own dreams we retreated, knowing white and auburn or emerald. Regretting our venture into the dual dimensions of the temporary we sought the twisted strings of color revolutions. When the keys are found, the door opened, who pines for the previous? Not I said the willing.

Into habit regret marches confidently. Relief the corner of my tears as years drop away into the rivers of time and forever. Wounded, buffeted until the shawl of spirit is bunched and tattered. Running headlong into thanksgiving is a capable response for worry. In the palm of a quiet hand I found time and breath to make the journey. Relieved, to have believed in something outside the ordinary. Something real, miraculous and fostering joy, irreplaceable.

Fully subscribed to example, having paid the entry fee, you cannot convince me that this road fails to reach grand summit. Unlike the winters feeble touch, the lively seed of morning mystery graces us this first glimpse of Spring’s valor. What is left to grow beyond the reach of madness and infertile thinking? There is arrival and the revival of superior thinking akin to mastery of man. Unkempt, bedraggled, forced to see the waxen fury of man’s mystic pursuit as his palsy rages at moons, meekness and memories.

What weakened state of petrified fear pins me against the chasm wall? Feet convinced or bribed by enablers and branded thieves to stay their ground when flight is beckoned. Let go all that was and never could to find those things spoken of by next week and tomorrow. Chatting humbly at the skirt of time about space, and days in between the making of all matter. What free hand idea is scribed when looking over shoulder to warn them of policing thought? Most notable the charge of electrons seeking to establish a base for reasoned purpose.

Into home I capture Escalera. No drag of unsecured baggage or antenna. There is no stopping within the event horizon unless the shields administered preventor. To collapse within oneself when shy from piercing light. In hope of answering poorly to be released by inadequate access. No one fears the known until forced surrender by the knowable. And days of dream teach us tales and language to reach strangers. With perfect word and hope beyond the hands of time or death. Arriving at a thousand tomorrows forgotten yesterdays and years of anguished folly, I rest my argument upon the eyes of fire.

Oh you heart who follows the wind and expectation, who may predict or depend? What road we attend knowing with slight recant you will find allegiance, yearning and quest at the changing of season or breeze? What then the master of logic and plan. Schedules and to do lists dictating the hours in absence of miracle. Where is life in this grand scenario penned of man? What lay at the end of my own achievements if not material blessing or sense fulfilled? Planted those things that I may account to my own spread? What is preserved if heart untaught or fealty unknown?

Sullen and undetermined, fruits unripe, spotted or neglected. What joy to you seeks solace in vision of the rounded mountain? What skip bounces from step to step? What praise offered for the contentment that perhaps has never purchased? What hope in laws and frequence to sustain the moorings of the margrave? Have you forgotten the giggles and imaginary ambitions and the dreams of youth? Are there things you are afraid to know?

Courage now young one. Time marches whether you stand, step or slip. Breathe deep the power of pace irrelevant the rhythm of decay and entropy. All sound the fear and laughter of those who made naught kings. Din the cries of those stood watching, anticipating prayer and tears of the frightened. What homes or dwellings protected truly felt safety beyond the hands of evil? Where to in navigation would those go to find certainly in ledger, mind and spirit? Have we forgotten the war wages to ending of certain victory or seek we peace with enemies thus defeated? Why command armistice with those who shall dwell in darkness?

What heroes make we? Lifting up brides and captains crumbling. Handfuls of loam and shaken stirring. Drifting in mind, intent and mercy never sure of the horrors which sway the outcome. Into those gelled, malleable ponderings of yoga, mystics and magics. Resonance of deciphered normalcy doing what feels right in weight and measure. What gentle rock supports the formation of worlds, wind and forever? And to our just reserves is levity found in attendance to nature’s rules or call? Is there for a voice for which the choir tunes? In tandem with cycle, sound or beginning. Round the corner to madness or muse. Does tomorrow bring your rubbings of the lantern or the escape of wrath and judgment?

Mirrored flowers of the morning sun. Crossing hairs in gardens plain peacefully prepared to bask a while until summoned for the counsel. Lumbering the tree toed pathway all senses alert to the pollens and murky watered fountains. Lillies and valleys fair, wandering mind met to dismiss the thousand pounds of memories. Gone all guilt and practiced rhetoric as emotion got the better in delivery of tales, tears and talisman.

Walking backwards on frontage beach trying to remember summer’s last. But winters long howling mourns had dulled my senses enough to find them pleasantly lifted in the Spring’s awake from slumber. Cows and collies, bridges and billowing sails caught the freshened breeze to remind us of stories once told in wonder. The sky waited obediently for the brush to lay upon it, melding imagination with morning in a water color to rival heaven’s pastel.

A brief blink of eye, not a wink but some internal, private code set to action a secret parlay or prison break. Embarked to cozy inn for a satisfying meal, conversation on antiquing and a short-winded jaunt to miss incoming showers. What comforts do the shoulders rest.? When sitting proper by the falls and bells as tourists tip their hats in respect. There are no plans greater than the wishes of man to escape into the unknown season.

There are no requirements only expectations met or sometimes tabled. To the mounts and swiftly ride to find the folly we had so hoped would come upon us. Into the daze of mysteries met we left behind the thoughts and hopes of wars won tomorrow. For today alone stood to be victor. In its promise we fell toward the bastions of impermanence. For the horizon is always further than the feet which found it. Yet, whole lives may be answered in the moment when this day becomes the one of dreams.

Attached to that which sponsors right thinking and action. Embracing the truth that there is always an I and that persona has a list of wounds, desires and reasoning that will consistently be at odds with greater pursuits or understanding. The deception often endemic to failing this acknowledgement, demands a discernment beyond the embellishments of self and a focus absent dominion beneath the seeking’s of self. The decision and continuance of this higher discovery or investigation then requires a diligence or vigilance in watchfulness to measure the reflection of a navigation attentive to the power of probable or possible misdirection. The only way is His, the desire to walk that path.

What then in faith is logical reaction to the disturbances or attempted theft of joy, peace or patience is to remain within the joy regardless of deception or offered interruption? This joy, having received the keys to the toolset of humanity’s navigation, will remain my endorsed mindset. I am beyond the reach of theft and/or calamity. To participate in this counterproductive effort is by choice and should be acknowledged as willful participation and self-wrought efforts to attend to the effect of my enemies. I will stand this battlefield in courage, not to fight against those I seek to drive before me but rather filled with the confidence of their flight as defeated foes of the one I represent in likeness, Word and pleasure.

Where have I gone when finding my footfalls upon the Broad Boulevard volleying conversation absent love, humility or caution? Well, in absolute visibility I have been lured by lusts, objectives or conquest from the list of humanism not of heaven. Why then will you follow the red balloon of childish imagination, when the concrete, substantive edge of eternity awaits and beckons your just pursuit in faith? Wherein is fruit displayed? Is it unlike the manna of today stored up to be shown another day? Or is today the viewing of my produce? What then is God pleading you discover? Step aside from the misdirection efforts of those who would see you impoverished.

Find Joy, given freely and without governance to sustain those promises of that which awaits you beyond the world’s zenith, horizon or Z-plane. For this is the incremental capture of those things supernatural to which you have made heir and willing participant. Love, joy, peace and patient not only await your administration but stand at ready to defend, protect, parry and deliver the certainty of God’s victorious glory and fulfillment. Why choose this when that has been available since transformation? We must be decided in promise, hope and surety awaiting the arrival we know is our destiny.