Non linear, tangential roads leading to dead ends or calamitous outcome and a steady dose of fear prompting us choose them. The World is in trouble. Men have lost their love and patience for one another and the blood raises in their eyes as they seek viable option. From nowhere arise preposterous advisors counseling no forgiveness and throwing all in disagreement to the furnace fire. Small voices drifting into slumber or lost against the gunwales counsel reason, abstinence and understanding, but few listen and less have the patience to ponder meaning.

Unequivocal positions taken against even those in the squad interior. No one is safe from the flaying tongues of dissatisfaction. All feel the wrath of those wanton. New fires kindle by short fuses leaning to close to eternal flame seek conflagration. All want war yet yearn for peace and find themselves lain to the bone in the irony. Dancing on hand grenades and short tempers the ballerinas who once were the darlings of public perception now are the raw meat to some who would consume them. No pledges, no new fledgling soul mates seeking passionate expression and dynamism of youthful experience. Now the cold, hardened stare of carnivores chase down hapless youth too afraid to fight for deliverance.

Man has lost his mind in the hysteria preceding Empire. Those who would restrain this oddity are caught in their own struggle misperceiving the meaning of it is finished. Evolution disproven all should find the folly in their raising. Cells are held together by the space between atoms. When force fleets the eggs that were once beaten hatch hazard and reckless abandon. Where are the men who once chased wisdom, begging God in discernment’s grip to deliver them from the harlot or hangman’s noose? Where have the bright imaginative minds of children found their quarry?

We have locked ourselves into the double sides of midnight, longing for morning but lusting for the moon. Saints serving themselves another helping of retirement, someone deep within knowing they will never reach the season. For this is the shattering of the hopeful or the delight of those with readied fuel. Some fashion any new passion to take their mind from worry. Few save for days yet known, not to deploy a fashioned hope in relaxation but to prepare their hearts for harvest, that the daunting work of fulfillment be readied for the job boss. And in cold harmony they hope that zombies haven’t heard them. As doing right is not longer a right among the freed men.

Where to Kings who have no charisma, lacking the character to talk themselves round banquet dance floor. Whose passion and parlay are always seeking privy. Days without end pressuring the willing to give up their patience on summer. And in the dark, where whispers once frightened now blood thirsty shouts of those lain about to take hold of innocence. And in our dreams we see the ride spin faster, trapped in our seats by centripetal force, captured in pursuit of six pence or a headache lasting throughout long winter’s slumber. To the Spring most look longing for normalcy, for Love lone since expired. Now to the hardened hearts of those forgotten, leading into the darkness as if were home.

Beckons, calls, redeems, befriends and prepares. Refined air of certainly and similitude. No force may resist the gathering of all things pure and treasures await for all who have consciously stored. Once being poor of mind and material I longed for the end to despair, anguish and unforgiveness. Now the Hope that pilots my heart into the future I must face promises succor, comfort and provision. Wishes and dreams powered my imagination in vanity. Now the promise of something beyond creativity, beyond my design, some fertile and unchanging passed my capacity for reason and reflection. I have found the furmety.

unfashionable in public discussion, many hear and label me muse or someone absent the cursory simplicity of worldly wisdom. For the wisdom I seek is born of a passion for relationship with the maker of all things. I do not hope upon my own understanding of good and evil, the factors and Polynomials of mysticism and charm. My aspiration are the things beyond self that change my capacity for patience, goodness and keep me from the snares of youth. Why would I want to become lesser when the future before me knows no limitation? Should living in the box of my own will prevent me from becoming something of God’s imagination?

I do not fret this world as it fights itself in a clamor to become its own ruler but lacking the resume or forethought to have planned that destination. Most things though filled with calamity and chaos have begun growing dim in the harmonious hue of God’s descending Kingdom. What lay before or after time, what dimension upholds the nothing or is their a fold at the edges of God’s thinking? I do not yet know nor do I hold on to ambition to know all that God has accumulated. I wish a simply understanding of my reason and outcomes of proper service and mimicry not mockery, To become like Him is not to be Him but being with Him is the greatest achievement available in or outside time and space.

In this peace I will reason and reside. At the harbors of the universal seas into dimension yet known performing tasks for a King I have yet to know half as well as He sees me. There is no other place, no other age, no better time for my happiness or heroes but with the One Who Made me to seek Him for purpose, hope and works.

In that moment it was done, finished, sealed, healed and completed. The mockery so harsh yet always seemed somehow frail in its delivery, as if we all knew something remained unspoken. What house has been built for the many that they few may not stand against it? My pride inadequate defense against proclamation of Truth and forgiveness, from which no one shall remain unchanged. In the light we all walk without blinders, shadow or secrets.

They subject this lad to the harsh hand of repeated slander, disrespect and lack of compassion or understanding. In it this youth stand exuberant when all but hope stands lost. But faith in its establishment and candor propel all things forward especially in the midst of the impossible. Legs pressed but never wobbled the heart resolves itself to stand from sunrise to sunrise. A smile, a laugh a deep breath when all should have been removed by reason the world is confounded in its confusion. A young man stands where all had sought his destruction delivered by the Hand and Promise of God.

What fell in the forest, what stood in desert tempest, what road the highways of Earth’s Sea to begin the planting of God’s harvest? See the fire is inevitable though all evidence and narrative commands in doubt. We hunger for the end of logic’s loose grip upon the Sovereign. If my quest resides simply in the pursuit of all things provable by cannon, equation or stars then I have missed the part outside of time, gravity and dimension. the halls of created hope promising things misunderstood in man’s reference framing. For we have entered the realm of impossibility and find it comfortable in the promise as reflected.

What challenge then youth the fury of this world’s bluster, standing upon braggadocio and limits to understanding are we simply to fade in disbelief or fearful regard neglecting those things we know outside of some men’s gathering? Am I that frail, unimportant or impressive that the Power of a Word given to my heart shall fall ineffective to the ears opened in His Wonder? No this challenge rises to meet me for I anticipated its laughter in the greeting. He told us it would be so and yet we still hesitated in the remembering. It is time to stand, frail, fearful, inadequate and unimpressive within the Hand of God knowing that our enemies lack the knowledge that they so desperately claim completes them.

Your demand I capitulate to your definition of the universe leaves something sorely missed. No one may control the narrative with their own choices without having first removed that very same choice from others in their self determination. That is why the History of God’s Holy Intervention into the dimension of Humanity troubles them so much, for God fully defines and supports that choice as the foundation and proof of True Love for Mankind. See Love does not demand it offers and allows for individual acceptance or denial and to some extent the levels of participation amenable to each recipient.

The Proof of a Sovereignly created and controlled universe are found in Gravity, electromagnetism, particle behavior, light, electricity and even in Black Holes. Extracting that logical understanding from an argument to paint the universe in one’s own darkened perspective born of escapism, is the greatest tragedy and tyrannical projection known to man. If I must deny that water is wet or that mass dictates the opposing powers of energy and acceleration I am simply giving way out of fear of losing attention and love in order to accepting an alternate and empirically false definition of the foundations of all that is known without discovery. Your continued attempt to accumulate sufficient Dominion of might and control in order to rewrite the logical underpinning of reality is testimony to your illness before man and God.

I will allow you to choose any universe you wish to define in your imaginary projection as long as you refrain from forcing that understanding on any members within your sphere of influence and control. For it is within that need to project or have others adopt your version of the universe that you defy God’s Holy offering of Grace and Love. You see they all have a choice, just as each man or woman may choose to serve the gold of this world or the Gold of the next. It is their choice not because you have deemed it so, but by the Grace of God’s construction and the fabric and foundation of all life that each may choose to find their way back to God through Christ. Those are the rules and just because you want, no need to change them in hope of lulling yourself into believing your meeting with Him does not mean that in any way you have altered the truth, just created and supported a deceptive lie regarding that impenetrable and undiminishable Truth.

We have arrive at Man’s departure from deception and embrace of those things which may no longer be ignored. The entire world feels itself being compelled toward a particular moment where the secrets of the universe shall be revealed. We all feel the pressure to take a position in either defense of God’s Construction, Law and Grace or a departure to something created by alternate authorities who would live in a world absent God’s influence. This insanity must not be embraced for how may any created being alter its creation to extract its Creator from that which He brought about. The only way is also by Choice as God will give them exactly what they have asked for a universe in perpetuity without His Presence and they will rile in it.

Father may these be your Thoughts, Your Words, Your direction. Now we stand upon the valley’s edge, the cliff wall descending directly to the floor below. Our toes curled as our sandaled feet hang inches over the edge, waiting to leap, take flight, climb down or perhaps fall into the annals of stories yet written. Lord we see the season in which we reside. The apparent rise of Anti Christ in the world and the massive push to institute the Empire of Dominion upon the World is clear in its evidentiary capacity to indicate upon which edge we now stand Ready. Come what may Your Word has given us hope fill understanding of the victory that has already been secured and the promised joint heirship and adoption we face in Christ Jesus.

Having been said, we now stand upon those promises given us in Grace that we are now indwelt by the Spirit that created all things. As we fast and turn from our wicked ways in humility and supplication to the Father we ask that all things be forgiven, removed and replaced with aspects, character and authority in Righteousness that our mortal character was never meant nor capable of demonstrating. Father we walk in Your Characteristic Spiritual armour, producing results beyond the impossible through Your Power, Promise and Provision. We are certain in our battle stance as our feet quickly lead to the Peace and Perfection of Your Gospel Word to stop, create, convey, transform and direct all to the Cross of Calvary that they may decide to accept the Grace you’ve offered ALL. We know your heart for humanity and will continue even through increased ardor as the end of the gentiles apparently draws near.

Father, we ask first for healing of the Saints. We know that you will give us what we ask for in the Name of Christ Jesus. We now ask that all the saints are raised up in healthy provision and potency as we were promised and given by the stripes given our Lord upon the Cross. Lord remove all cancers, blood problems, viruses, abductions, broken bones, bacteria and poisoning from these Brothers and Sisters that they may for this period do the impossible through Christ who Heals them and strengthens them in all things. Let your Spirit set right all that is out of order in each Saints life, giving them a power previously misunderstood or beyond their understanding. Let them walk, talk and breathe the Everlasting Spirit of Life as they walk forward into the destiny you’ve prepared each of them. May they bring glory to your Holy Name and envy to those who are overwhelmed by your mercy and grace to your children.

Father now as we speak your Gospel to those still incarcerated or chained to sin and death, we ask that you bind their captors here in the heavenlies and under the Earth that they may have no impact upon these making clear decision for Grace. Lord silence the Fallen in their ears, clog the airways of their minions that none may cast spell, curse, evil divination or offer foul counsel while each of these makes a choice for you. Lord set this nation on notice that this is the time to return or be banished from Righteousness and that our only hope has always been found in your Grace, Mercy and Promise. Lord if it be your will send these bound wicked to the Lake of Fire or lock them in Tartarus for the coming day of Judgment. Father make them flee from the mention of Your Holy Word from each saint. Let us offer your authority and power as we lend them a helping hand to find you at Calvary’s Cross.

Father may the revival in preparation of your Grand Harvest begin this day in our company, understanding and prayerful request for a Global Deliverance to begin. Father may all hearts hear your offer of Grace and be free from deception, captivity or obfuscation to make that choice by their own considered Free Will as your Promise intends. I pray that all choose life Lord but even if they don’t that all be given a chance this very day to make that Choice of where they wish to spend eternity. Lord may we become long suffering in our patience to wait for all to accept your Grace and demonstrate your characteristic hope that all will find their way to given the time to do so. May Your Wrath poured out upon this Earth produce an overwhelming bounty of the saved to the Store House of Heaven. May we be found faithful in discharge of our duty to Grace, serving the Coming Kingdom and Our King the Lord Jesus Christ with earnest and Joyful exuberance. IN His Holy name we Pray, Jesus Christ the King.

We know so little and of all the things in life, There’s no greater tool among us then love for neighbor, child or wife. It’s perfect in its nature and doesn’t want a thing, symbolizing its forever we choose to give a ring. There is no protection from love contagious and it’s free nothing greater to have pursue you, no better place to be than on the receiving end of kindness and regard for you and me. In peace we find a partner a lover or a friend and the Love we share together knits us tightly until the end. Sycamore in the desert you stand uniquely filled with the affluent power of joy embracing the love of all as family and friend.

Of Love, I have often wondered, is the price something given freely which when paid makes it more the precious? Or are the prison doors made privy shut around a heart and mind forever trapped, encapsulated with freedom unwanton? A moments rest in freedom shunned for a captive heart, treasure beyond remanding. What burden is so light yet massive that none may escape its shadow. We would travel time, grieve eternally and trade our last bastion to taste a moment of its fragrance. This so is the meaning of everlasting life for it is only found knit inseparably to the hopeful adoration of those who would spend it with us rather than elsewhere, even kindled with massive treasures of gold and fury.

Brought to light by spark and cinder, into the raging fires of loves possessive heat. Always wishing to keep one hand in the pool of swirling waters below that I might not burst, formally expiring in the dreams of passion’s wonder. Singing tunes without pain or love use not the notes to their fullest, banishing to dark elixir of chords, rhythm and time to lesser pursuit. The first aspiration must always be the love of ones master, creator, Dad. For in our roots and that approval or validation we find the will to overcome, transpire and push forward with the courage that surrounds a man’s heart with recovery. Into the raucous night of battle’s clanging we rush fervently for the hope of one regard from maker.

Insisting on poverty we still must find the brotherhood, the filial, the romantic call of loves draw above reason and counsel. Those who hate are relegated to lesser gains and ambitions. For there is no place as the hand of love upon thee. Sought not for gain of finance but finishing of purpose. Pleased by all that comes our direction we are never filled to measure without having had the great pleasure of someone seeing and accepting us fully for who we are not who we have left to become. As the drum beats into the night counting out and calling us to the quest of dreams, we are lost in the forest without knowledge of tree, leaf or Earth without first having understood and followed the love that first led us wondering.

Spoken true, you’ve wished for me to wonder. Always one step behind the scent, footstep of trolley having left door closed to the place I should have favored. In response to echoes on the wind my journey races here and dallies there pursuant to the rhyme I’ve often pondered. Something to do with hope and chance for the sake of grand romance. A Story, when told captivates the audience in plunder, pride and palindrome, only to find themselves captured in the rash, epic, syllogistic terminology seared into the memories of those who wanted innocence.

All along the beach front, herculean men and damsel looking distressed are dressed down by a world that wants all the money. Walking in the noonday sun, dressed for autumn, wishing myself adequately prepared for that which lay before me. In my secondary concern I found the answers that were given by discernment, freshly kettled and served for aspiration. In waking moments I dream of things I found in slumber, unencumbered by the cask alight upon my shoulder basking in my best Atlas shrug I leapt for freedom.

Why do they look at my sorrow to kindle the fire of their grand resolve? What lure marches them to quarry, basking in decay and dissolution? What prides bid them seat themselves on high when mastery requires mercy and antipathy for the masses breads not but slaughter. Why make again that which was done in perfect, perpetuity and accurate comprehension of possibility? Where are the dreamers? What imagination spawns the loss of all that’s holy to reach the paramount existence? Why destroy to create, pulverize in perfection’s pursuit when you speak of augmentation in ill verse? Where is your victory if all is lain waste at battle’s ending?

I cannot purge myself of humanity and claim that makes me a better man? What gurgling fear of the blood rising in one’s throat would cause them to hate the innocent? What mooring bother’s boat enough to squeak against being tied just so? What answer may be found in the destruction of all good to find the heart of darkness? Where has love gone when there is not but dark heart and reason? Shall all things living exceed to metal code? Shall we shed skin for that less temperate silicon centered fancy? Isn’t folly simply folly no matter the foolish foreplay or shiny coated finish? What good thing wishes for the ending of all life to find purpose?

The greatest lived tragedy is a man who becomes that which the public requires in order to achieve solvency. That man never lived but the projection created of him in replica to afford for the elements placed upon him in aspiration. How many of us have gone decades as cardboard cutouts of the men God made us to become for the purpose of accumulating assets, romance, position or power? It is never worth it. The world and all its accoutrement and encumbrances are not enough to fulfill that which was made in God’s Image. That is why we must relinquish access and usage of Spiritual sight and discernment when seeking the reward of mammon.

I will never venture to say that I have done anything right in this march to find the skinny path to God’s intention. However, I know that my opportunity launched when I began eschewing those things my pride so craved. If the mortal man wanted these things with such abandon in my calculus that was clear indication of their inclusion my plastic nightmare. Not merely logic but emotion, relationship and ambition surrounded those People, things and titles I sought in worldly fulfillment. It wasn’t that I hated these things but God offered something better than I could ever achieve in my own pursuits.

Simple things, simple pleasures, diminished burden and clarity of purpose, those are the fuel of God pursuits. Do not be fooled into thinking that the skinny path is all dandelions, rainbows and butterflies because typically the opposite ensues. We were meant for greater things and we all know that the greater our aspiration the more difficult the runway. The Lord means for us to accomplish the impossible through His Holy Spirit bringing Glory to His Name in the process. Therefore, we ought expect that many of our works will be considerably more difficult than those we may personally achieve. This walk with Christ is not about being an over achiever, it is about doing those things that reside beyond our own capacity for deliverance. Why else would we need to Spirit that created the Universe indwelling our hearts. If this were about what I always had the ability, talent, treasure or measure of humanity to accomplish, then why did Christ have to die to save me?

I will never be what they have demanded I become and trust me I have lost a lot of sleep and tears in the attempt. The Lord bid me let them go for there are only two paths in this life. Those who are on the other path and the undecided hate when anyone tells them that for they are desperately projecting the darkness and worldliness inside themselves hoping and praying that we are wrong. All the time knowing as we have that there is only one way to Everlasting Life. This choice is hard but when you get right down to the metal surface it is the only one that ever made sense. You see I don’t want to be someone else to achieve greatness, I would much rather be me and see the greatness I may achieve in Jesus. For it is in His Name that I walk this born again life, without Who I never would have had the opportunity. Let’s see where it takes me. I hope that I bring Honor and Glory to Him even in my smallest works.

Raven’s speak, breezes filled with flown gossip, ashen keep and night’s stone cold. Starlight to brigand’s prowl, mercilessly broken on the shady waves of ocean’s peak. Tide’s call upon formless feats dedicated to nothing but the motion and pull of distant moon’s. When is the season’s greet, drunken merry wonders displayed for delight and festered remembrance? Where do the team of horses tread, steady, not spook or spoken for but courted by intensity.

At behest of nightfall she sang deep and sweet of the morrow, and battle’s yet contested, until dreamer’s dealt with mishap in the requests they brought to midnight. Oh, slowly pray ask for things ill deserved and better left unspoken. As prayers drift into wonder and prisons freed become home to those yet filled with fear and reason. Challenging the stolen dawn as if some ghastly shade pranced holy into the heart of sun and moon seeking capture. Yet slippery lass eased past them leavening hands filled with air and misery as piper’s paid by quarry.

Crimson of ripened rose upon the pool of newly mastered. No purple to passion’s claimed, worthy of fallen days and night’s shattered by shrill blast thrice of horn in conquest fed. Willed to madness by the happy seeking flotsam who shall never entertain forgiveness. In pride and porous pregnant thought be bought by Braham’s and chalice free. To sing quartet as paddle wheel marches calling Saint Louis from the distance. The wishes and fishes of a briner’s bay born with the morn of warning coursing cross their taut white brow. As for then and now we have gone to better passing, seeking higher ground and the sounds of God’s whisper to the wanton.

Leaving lass with keen green satchel, cleaving to the nettle of a sprite’s lengthy mane. Auburn, not brazen red as child would have spoken but less orange then gold. With trepidation and pause seek those answers that shall not be remembered but change the world no less. From happenstance to chosen men have searched and been found unfinished by lesser word. Twisted tongue and youthful query as if in understanding the power lay. All too soon June turns November and the icicles that once fell free now cling to the chill of mind and heart. Into the keep we seek the warmth of whistling wood and good of fine words, song and the fellowship of Ages.

I do not dream in apprehension of coming turmoil but revel in the release of my reflections. Caught up in the maelstrom of my guerrilla instinct, camouflaged by waiting crowd I inspect their faces for tells and wrinkles given to all narcissistic projects. Outside the burden of my own resolve I find the turmoil of present company, purchased or manufactured by those things that lengthen or shorten men’s lives. We sink or sail not by wind alone but by the disciplined effort of our quest. Some be more valiant than most but all are found in the righteous or indignant representation of our making.

For what post have I been designed, assigned or pastured beneath the revenant moons of man’s understanding? What dangers are intrinsic to my folly? Or must I go forth into the unchallenged beyond to find the demons of my displeasure? Calculus, figured in my head as I manipulate the starts, the oceans and night’s offering of romance and frequency. Is this truly a thing of man’s kindling, a fashioned fire born of the twigs of my anger, broken, torn, relegated to the warmth of my shins and ankles? Where have the rivers led if I must never find fulfillment in their following?

What better purchased parchment has accepted ink from quill stick? The words of enemies vanquished, valley’s crossed and mountains mastered as testimony to my argument of greatness not evidence of my gratitude. Of Eternity’s Dream I am no master, fledgling, failure, perhaps artist with unknown colors or imagination impure I ride the waves of my own pride as they rise and ebb toward indifference. Selected, hand picked by a palm I do not answer. Gripped by my own script, seeking headlines, deadlines and whimsical wonder from a cauldron full of nothing but the smelly socks of self calamity.

To field I pray, in pastures of men who knew my mastery to run from prey and fowl, never knowing owl or pleasant waves of midnight. In Passing to all prominence I venture a boorish man’s whisper, egging on the mockers and fools who would counsel me otherwise. This is not dessert cold but angry strong drink of ill gotten word and envious or odious reason. Found flocked among the penchant ravens, dark and fair esteemed as pious messengers of the nether edges of universal contempt. In their chatter and willful conviction the keys to my freedom lay displayed for all with keen eye and heart of light.

Where must he run to escape pursuit of self unpleasantry? Swallowed up by improper thinking and undisciplined word, never taking actions for fear of further revelation. Mumbling in quiet against the overreaches of the dark, talons scraping the rooftops as they descend to pluck my wanton corpse from parapet. I will gain the pinnacle and in that moment find myself stricken with the reality that comes to all embracing the glory of their own burdened reflection. Feet permanently strapped to a broken board riding waves of my own making. There is no hope without someone to believe in. Lodged between the widgets of the would be’s and virile marches to discover validation and purpose we reside in the unhappy pages of those left unamused or craving.

This is not the quest for gold or treasures old, but the misery of man seeing in finality his own disassembly. Smashed upon the rocks or carefully dissected by reason and rhyme the parts of humanity strewn out in workspace, we are all taken to account by wisdom and temporality. This is not a dream of my making but the mastery of a man who never much fancied displeasure. In the conquest of my folly I met my making in that place where watches and clocks find adjustment and synchronicity.