You were addicted to cigarettes
And you talked about how bad it was
How addictions were bad for you,

But soon, I became addicted to you
And you were right,

Addictions are bad for you.
They just end up hurting you

A.K.

I stood gazing.
Light shed behind a wooden cross
overlooking your kingdom.
Overlooking your river steady and true
flowing to your sea.
From a distance it seemed to be moving
with the life and morning life of you.

I moved, drawn closer to the life,
at peace, but my heart quickened.
Your cross grew larger and leaped faster,
not away, but towards me.
Now I saw a new color of the day,
the color crimson. Alive on your cross.
Crimson lept away and towards me in time and space it seemed.

When I opened and focused my eyes fully,
I gazed on a miracle of your making.
A harmless, simply beautiful, creation.
Hundreds of pure crimson ladies, your blood shed for me,
danced in hope and joy around on your sacrifice.
The cross you bore for me.

After my wide eyes settled I sat quietly, serenely.
I felt your cool morning dew laying on your jade toned grass.
I sat near enough to soak in your beauty fully,
Just enough to feel hope landing on my arms, harmlessly.

Hope then crawled and spread a joyful smile on my resting lips.
Only enough to absorb grace and all that there was, then.

I sat and looked up, using gifts given , bent my neck to spine.
I sat and saw the wonder you showed me.
I sat and heard your voice whispering through my hair.
I sat and breathed in your breath fully.
I sat and believed in you, still I sat alone with you.

Time unknown went by and then there were more of us.
We sat together no words spoken.
We sat together in weary morning amazement.
We sat together with our hands folded , spirits entwined with yours.
We sat together and the eyes you blessed us with soaked in wings of pure joy.
We sat together and believed in you.

Crimson ladies danced to sow in us peace, love, serenity, creation, quiet,
joy, connection, beauty, light,  sound, feeling and it all meant love.

The cross of your creation, dancing with life.
The sacrifice you made.
Made for us, made for you and me.
We are grateful for all and your crimson ladies.

2008....about my first experience with the Father, Son and The Holy Spirit, which happened in 2002. I lost the memory and my way for a a while and the experience found me later and brought me back to Him in some ways.

Mistaken father, i'm not here to pray,
Or confess my sins, to you today,
Your bible brings, no inner peace,
Your rules abused, no soul released,

A holy disciple, twisted your words,
Tears and torment, all that was heard,
In a place of worship, for only the few,
Told me silence, would bring me to you,

Muted words, brought only shame,
Corrupted my soul, tortured my brain,
A life of crime, no retribution,
Local news, provided a solution,

  ----

Cold steel, a stormy night,
A chapel exposed, in thunderous light,
The door opened, to a church of lies,
Recognised words, tears in his eyes,

Praying I forgive, praying I forget,
Praying his god, will pay off his debt,
The thunder roars, a burning light,
The gates of hell, opened tonight.

No remorse,
For my actions taken,
A son of no cross,
Forever forsaken.