The blue hour Is when I am constantly thinking of You
It is when you capture me thickly in your presence
The amazement in this time

The hue of the heavens sky, blush strokes and strokes of yellow, blue fading to black just after the preceding promise of passion red slowly appearing

There is something in this hour that leaves me wanting
leaves me wanting more - yet I cannot help but feel satisfied

There's just something about your perfection that satisfies me. Deeply.

And yet I just cannot get enough. It's almost paradoxical. Surely if I was satisfied, I could move on right?

I supposed when You are enough, satisfaction is a given - a prerequisite when we come in contact with each other.

But that's just it isn't it - it's all about that contact

I can only be satisfied if I'm constantly returning to your well of Life.

Water can only quench for a limited time...
But what I actually seek, what I actually find in your presence quenches me for a lifetime and lifetimes over and again.

For whoever drinks of the water You give them will never be thirsty again.

It actually has been a long time since I've been here.
Sitting down, putting pen to paper.

So much has gone on and happened. A couple of months and perhaps years have gone by since I've opened my mind to this avenue.

We've been through a fair bit you and I. We've seen, heard and experienced so much in such little time.

I know it's clichéd and lame, trying to make sure it all rhymes...
stays the same...

I guess it's finally clicked in that this season is over, my skill has fade-d a bit, my knack for writing has reached its end. I guess I'm at my last wits end - trying to make sure words fit.

But in all seriousness, for all intents and purposes I suppose I'll start...

with the real reason why I'm actually here. I guess it's in the silence that all this happens, where it all begins. It was in the silence that I first met you. A season it was where it was just the two of us - mostly one-sided, I spoke - you listened. For the most part I only sought you out in times of trouble, for the most part...

when i needed someone to talk to...

I was selfish then - I'm not so much anymore

You talk a lot - you always have I guess. You're much more wiser between the two of us. I suppose you do have years and years more to offer than I do, but nevertheless I forget this fact more times than I care to admit.

You have been my rock, my shelter, my comfort and my Shepard - like a lamb I have followed you (without even knowing it for the better portion of my life) like a puppy I have loved you - like a child I have forgotten you

But I have found you again. You have always been here, waiting for me while I went my own way. You have always loved me while I loved others and sought love elsewhere. You have always considered me while I forgot you and placed you in the attic of my mind.

But here we are, walking together again - the dust blown off, eyes set, the path straight

It seems so much simpler now doesn't it - my days are brighter, the lurking shadows around me have dissipated and I can finally breath deeper

deeper and deeper as I walk with you

It's been a while
I'd almost forgotten about you

Surmise to say I was succinctly shocked

...to the core, to see how far and deep I have come

From the depths of a dark place, I have found a light. My light,
This light has grasped me, grasped me tight - tight in His mighty bossom.

It's a weird feeling, an acceptance of helplessness outside of your will.

Two thousand odd years and you still remain, such reverence and still you choose to chase after me.

Well, I'm done running...

I was for a long time.  How peaceful it is now.

To cross, my legs and sit in comfort.

At your feet.

if you believe you are limited
your thoughts flow from that belief

i wish it were so, uncomplicated
simple
every night and waking minute my mind plagues me
unlimited

an insatiable, unlimited influx of thoughts and emotions
flood, and flood
every day and every night
every night i drown in my own
euphoria and depression

i desire release
i desire capture too

i dont know what i want anymore, i dont think i ever have

i wish my thoughts were limited
i wish i was limited

Paint me like the burnt air.
Unwanted, careless and forcibly inhaled.

Paint me like the bruises on my chin.
Blue hued, swollen and new.

Paint me like blood.
Flowing and hidden, threatening to flood out.

Paint my pain.
No one else knows, I so desperately need to share.

In vain, paint me
In vain, paint me in vain.

Isn't it funny how the phone charger in theory resembles that of an umbilical cord?

Even as adults, we long for what was - from once we were torn

Isn't it something to say that something so important to modern society
Resembles something symbolic to birth
To nature

It's anything but
Sure it feeds energy and life just like the cord used to...
Sure it's useful in its own sense
Just like the cord used to...

Perhaps they share similar ends...
They'll both fade away from use and be thrown away