feminism, a joke.
how furiously do they go on
chanting about how true femininity is found in
a complete surrender of all inner desires that
have been welling up inside of all our hearts-
as girls we ought to be the same and even try to
bring down those we ought to help- indeed we
were created for this-
except that
God created the woman out of man's side- to stand by them, never trotting them down.
we ought to, indeed- we must go back to our own gardens,
our sorts of gentle peace and joy if we are to be our real selves.
the Cultivator Himself is pleased in renewing us and guiding us into this very beautiful reality. we cannot go back on our own...

broken at Your feet
is where i need to be
if the need to help others
is what distills me.

though this basket of abundance has been handed over to me
i flee and look for other containers
yes, perhaps a cup could fill my longing- a mere cup of something that promises only for the journey that takes me back
for they all do this, every single one of them.
oh- for how long must i keep doing this, if my treasure is mine already?
where has He gone now? His flowers do not have the joyful scent to them anymore and His fruits are no longer seen anywhere... but the Son still shines- there's still the moon over me, accompanied with the many stars... His children- precious promises.

in the chaos there is room for interpreting things as they are,
there's barely a glimpse of hope that we're actually still alive, yeah- the hearts' beating and one may seem attentive to their surroundings but the artistry of the mind is so complex that when so many events get thrown at it all at once it is only natural for it to react in defense mode. yet, multitasking never was, is or will be an art but a false justification for getting things done all the while, things are falling apart. in the mind of one that has been wholly separated and made new- it is an obligation i would dare to say- to depart at once and flee to the arms of the everlasting Father. receive His divine listening ear and pour out our chaotic storms before Him only to go away in abundant peace. yes, it may sound so simple yet the cure is but that easy yet complicated all at once for the pilgrim. hence, we need the reality of our pilgrimage to be ever set before us so that we may therein never equate ourselves with this fleeting world and find a place to rest our head here, no this is our battle ground. oh precious kin- if you were to but merely glance up and see your ever triumphant Home- the Lion of the Tribe of Judah then, and only then will you find rest. but even at that, do not let your comfort lead you to pride and rarely approach the throne of grace just as much as you shouldn't let His never ceasing mercy lead you to slothfulness disguising itself as rest. nope, holy war and peace are hand in hand. learn this oh weary heart of mine.

observe your actions. submit em and your thoughts to the LORD for He alone knows what you need. do not doubt what He has so mercifully proven but do test yourself constantly. a challenge is necessary in order to fall deeper into the Beloved. from glory to glory- testify. submit every fibre of your bones. He is all the strength you need. indeed all the strength you have.

spiraling downward, with a knowledge of self alone
my Beloved captured me from the self made grave
my heart longed for an escape and the mystery of what came with death intrigued my curiosity
You knew this, You made me
offering thee Perfect escape by the only Risen One-
You took my hopes and failures,
welcoming me daily to the escape only The Lamb can provide-
into the warmth of the Son and away with the mystery of the night stars i go, holding hands with Life- finally breathing freely, dying to myself daily.

divided melodies being united
through the sheer mist of love
unseen yet rendering us to draw near, compelling beyond all force- infallible indeed
a mere hint of that which awaits those in the Beloved
hear and know
our life's are flying away therefore we must,
in a sense, learn to dance with the clouds and
draw near the Source of lightning without fear
but rather, with inexpressible, exploding and uncontainable delight