antique platters of synchronized hearts
stamped with eternity from the beginning
yet, foolishly dancing the night away.

as if the breaking dawn is honestly promised.
oh, weary traveler,
find rest under the moon light.
for herein is thee one and only  
everlasting river that'll quench your soul's thirst.
in abundance- grow, my dear...
you are not meant to stay a seed to be thrown away,
if, you have already questioned the planets' Maker
and amongst this wandering- there has been a momentary
fear and tremble along with an annoyance of self
truly, the Author of life is in your midst.
be prepared for the breaking down of the walls you took years to build up

regardless, when He comes, breaking through glorious thundering clouds of sheer mystery above your weary soul, you'll be remade into a modeled castle,
pointing to that which is soon to come.

i will stand like the trees in the rain, simply accepting the storm - seeing that the showers bring much fruition

Surely there’s more to it than unforgettable moments of clear stupidity, time consuming idiocy of slurred thoughts filled with feelings of constant annoyance towards everyone but ourselves.
No satisfaction, endless depression, fleeting pleasures.
There had to be something more than this, I thought to myself as I hit the pipe one more time but this high is but a lie to distract us from the truth. What is truth?
How had it not reached me and yet was in front of me the whole time? Surrounding us, showing us reality but, of course pride blinds all eyes and when looking towards ourselves we refuse to see that which is clearly greater than us. We might in all honesty continue to participate for the temporal escapism but when it does die we remain empty for we’re surely it's slave and this type of medicine is not being prescribed with pity but with all intentions of making us more greedy.
Whether we realize it or not we carry out the purpose of the deceiver for surely we’re slaves but the source makes all the difference.
One brings forth confusion, isolation with false ideology of power over all ending in death, the other frees to bring us into Eternity's hands and I must say that my being a slave to the fountain of life is not always typically beautiful but, the joy is infinitely worth it because the Creator keeps me and that fact is why I am at all for if it wasn't for the higher call, I wouldn't be, literally.
Suicidal thoughts knocking on my door until revelation with reconciliation came to the rescue.
Without grace I’m no better than the ******* out in the streets yeah, for there’s none good nope, not one.
Stop resting in justifications for addictions to the diminishing ice.
Behold His luminous voice as He melts the walls you hid behind only to restore your fragmented soul, surely you'll be whole. You've been deceived so stop saying you're good vibin' when really you're just blinded. Come taste & see the greatness of new life. An eternal canvas in the making instead of a cycle that's constantly breaking.

what is revealed is far more difficult to be concealed than that which is a mere wish.
stepped into the Reality of which the lucid hovering was but a shadow telling of the present and I am no longer fond of shifting grounds.

with Your voice
You build up the House of my heart,
with Your breath
the fruit falls from the tree.
You smile through the clouds, I am free...

the light, the breath, the water, the touch, the hope, the sound, the taste, these are but shadows of the beginning which will be met in the moment of our full restoration as the Bride of Christ, only then will we meet Intimacy face to face, we will be held as we behold, only then will our  true name be revealed, only at our far off country.

the yellow imitations of sunflowers in the midst of grandeur planning- here is where we come to find that the Potter is indeed for us, in the most Divine sense of it really and we must- if indeed, hiding below the willow of His loving arms has been our all in all, yes- we must shine for the mere fact that He is and we are because of Him.

beating as i lay my head
ongoing fast pulses as i close my eyes
and when i awake, it's all the same.
conscious pulsing always.

Made new in such a way that from the moment when You bestowed this never ending ardent flame in my heart I have yet to walk alone. Your Spirit is now my Vision, Your love is now the overflowing cup of mine. My life is no longer my own, no, it's in much Greater hands, dwelling in the Presence of the Star Breather. You took the bits and pieces I could never even begin to fathom and created a masterpiece to hang on the walls of Your ever triumphant Home. You gave me lenses by which I can discern the empty forests of various souls including mine own. Your light is a mystery to my mind, a joy to my heart. Your Spoken Word is the map which I make constant reference to for knowledge of my every step. I'm the flower of Your eye and You delight to see me lost in my thoughts of awe before the works of Your majesty. I will never turn back, You have won me ever since You resurrected me from that self made pit of mine. My old creature surrounded by chains was dead until Your thunderous Presence breathed Light into my inner being, bringing me to Life for the first time and now that I'm in Life, I can never see death again.

real love
gleams through
much sacrifice.
for growth-
one must go forth
into foreign lands,
away from close kin
to tell of.
stories of
Truth being exposed
amongst unknown faces
and places bring all together.
go now,
to love more.

But to actually come into agreement with our intellect and let all we observe take over our life’s to a level of complete control is rather foolish. We are vulnerable creatures even that to our own selves. We believe what we want to believe. We see only what our eyes desire to see, same with our minds except for the huge misunderstanding it has with the most important, the heart, the one that maintains, is, remains, everything overflows from it and it is there, deep in there, and I mean completely rooted in, where we will finally come into a contact so short that our minds will not be able to conceive it.. We’ll spend most of life in human terms trying to reach and achieve to the fullest extent but “it”, of course is beyond us all. It is wonder.

grappling hope, between what was revealed and what my feeble mind thinks could come to be.
strangled is my faith as i pretend to have control yet always fall short.
false expectations of demands no one gave, proud thoughts encourage unknown promises.
forget the temporary castle if eternal joy is what needs to be extracted in that dark old exchange that begs to be seen as beautiful.
i'll gladly be nothing if it means the King of Zion will be in control for therein lies all true peace freely given in abundance, overflowing mercies are truly gained on that gorgeous Mountain.