I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given.
-Emily Dickenson-
_ 125 followers / 4.0k words
If agony's alive and well then surely there must be a hell. And hell does not stand quietly by with respect for you and I. While agony is not the rule, it will always be the devil's tool. Strength from sorrow and peace from pain are seen by some as mundane, but life that vows to live again will not allow defeat to win, and in the end agony will say amen.
Birds flying in the sky, transfigured from the nests they lie. A flower blushing nature's hues transfigured from it's seedy shoes. On the cusp of being caught cells transfigure into thought. Laughter breaks monotony' s pause, transfigured from a joyous cause. Dawn's soft welcome morning light, transfigures the mystery of night. Days from hours disappear as time transfigures into years. Mercy sent from God above is grace transfigured from His love.
Where is your faith in this world gone awry? It got lost in translation between you and I. Words we hear and words we say set their sights on mindful play, and everything that we are taught merges with our worldly thought. That is why the Savior said heed my words upon your hearts, for that is where my kingdom starts.
I cannot write without a rhyme, possibly in due time, but currently the words are mine and I'm inclined to make them rhyme line by line because I find peace of mind every time my words rhyme.