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I see the moon,

and the moon sees me.

God bless the moon,

and God bless me.



*May the sweetness of rest enfold you

as the night puts on its cloak.
Meditation.
I see you

in the stillness of the snow
that blankets the meadow

in the kisses of couples
long spent together

in the rays of the sun
that slowly rises

in the rising of the choral piece
that praises your essence

in the hollow of my heart
steadfast in beating

I see you
Lord, I see you.
You are the King of my heart,
even though it doesn't feel that way.

and I so often desire to do things against your will

help me to place Your will above my will

for I desire that resilient, abiding peace which comes with this
but also Your Heavenly Kingdom,


where I may only praise, love and contemplate You,
forever more.

Love,
Sophie
My prayer today.
 May 2015 JDG
A B Perales
I gave into it ,
put down my fighting knife
and succumbed to it.

Like a fallen Palmetto
to the untamed selfish sea,
I fell into it.

Found myself weightless
and dry of tears,
relived of the rush
of the heart.

Veins thick with the
Poppies warmth.
Slack faced towards the heavens
in search of something more.

Saw her face made up of
unnamed stars and canceled out
all other constellations.

It took hold of me,
like the mouth of the wolf
it devoured me.

I was open and couldn't
deny.

That there was nothing of this blood
ruled earth to compare with the beauty
of a star dressed night .
 May 2015 JDG
A B Perales
There are plenty
of emotionally
damaged
souls who'd
love to
dance upon
my grave.

May even be a few
brave enough to
do me in
themselves.

I could call most
of them
off by name.

But by
doing that
I'd be granting
them Glory.

And Glory ,
in all
of its forms
must always
be earned.
 Apr 2015 JDG
Guss
Deceptions finest monologue
was that sorrowful speech that you let yourself utter
the night before last.
I let our identities spiral about the universe
and for a few moments,
I gathered a few passing glances at some other worlds.
To me they look like better possibilities.
Withered feathers best described
our flight patterns.
Some storms blocked our way,
nocturnal entities from the next dimension
gather at stations and vicariously
live life
through your eyes.
I wont be the sacrifice,
I don’t wanna be a prospect.
Your soul is distilled into spirits.
My was made into mead.
The confidence is hardly in low stock.
But decisions are.
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock.
first words in a while
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