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Mitch Prax Mar 2020
What we desire
after midnight is seldom
good for the spirit

9:13 PM
7/3/20
Mark Mar 2020
Divine Intervention:

Sometimes things just suddenly appear
Sometimes they’re ever so clear
My dreams awake, before I can touch
And thoughts rush into, my curious mind

Sometimes things just suddenly appear
It’s as though waking, will make it so clear
If it’s divine intervention, I may believe
Might even start kneeling
Such curiosity for my mind

It’s never just out of reach
It’s always just so close
I feel just a gentle breeze
Then suddenly, I shake all about, upon waking

So, we’ll pretend we can almost touch
We'll see it just as we like
Hopefully it’ll be just like before
And better still, I’ll still have my mind

But, I know what I just saw, wow
I’m suddenly a believer, in someone above
How sweet (I know how sweet) just pretend, don’t tell
I’ll see just as before
Suddenly I’ll know
And never again, I’ll just trust my mind

Then,
No more appearances
So long divine interventions
Bye bye mind...
Mark Mar 2020
If true, if true, then prove it to me  
Tell me, when did your life have any meaning?
In the mind, in the mind  
Where everyone’s dreams are so kind  
But in the end it won’t have the same meaning for all  
      
If true, if true, can you show me real proof  
I'm conveying to all what I envisage each night  
In the mind, in the mind  
Where everyone’s dreams are so kind  
But in the end it won’t have the same meaning for all  
       
If true, if true, then prove it to me  
Tell me, when did your life have any meaning?
In the mind, in the mind  
Where everyone’s dreams are so kind  
But in the end it won’t have the same meaning for all  
       
My journey was essential, for it to end at an actual destination  
I’ve learnt a little, lost more than I got  
My heart was strong when needed most  
And my good name enshrined for eternity, I hope  
       
If true, if true, then prove it to me  
Tell me, when did your life have any meaning?
In the mind, in the mind  
Where everyone’s dreams are so kind  
But in the end it won’t have the same meaning for all.
Joe Siler Feb 2020
I grew up in a tree and believed it to be,
safe as the branches enclosed around me.
On strings of breeze God may pull as he please,
the life over leaves dances with ease.
But when I watched by bees and birds as they fly,
my limbs chagrined as branches down wind.
Unaware before, I then yearned for more,
now feeling bound to my link in the ground.
Shifting my gaze, grip turned to graze
as my eyes slid down to the trunk I had found.
What could it be that afforded safety
as I sat above graves among the leaves and the aves?
Was I anchored by tombs no man can exhume,
or was this decay the cause for trees' sway?
To the mound I fell by gravity compelled,
but when I did peel at what earth had concealed
I found vines much stronger than ivy.

Now posture is prayer so I look to the air,
thanking the roots for taking such care.
But before I feed fibers completing the rhyme,
I must find time for the trees I will climb.
Orah Feb 2020
Spirit guides are divine warriors,
they provide you with positive energy,
And guidance.

They are always watching,
They are always near.

Their presence is too powerful for the eyes to see, and only your soul can feel.
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Mamta Wathare Feb 2020
You can raise your voice
As loudly as you please
I will only let my silence speak
My silence is louder than your noise
Nemis Feb 2020
The moonlight of the scarlet eclipse,
From the chasm of the phantom heart.
In the void of the bottomless pit,
Wandering in search of attunement within.

Abstruse like the nucleus rigid,
Fragile like the flower petal.
Hummings of the oceans and sky,
Quivering will, the fear occupy.

In the stones of faith to pray,
For the lurking fleshes of past which stays.
Rippling through the time frames,
Turning to the ashes gray.
If only to encourage others, if only to
implore you to fight back, to show yourself
before the Creator of our Universe,
to employ the tools at our hands.
In a realm we don't see, yet know all
too  well. To put into action what Yahweh has
given us.

What is this incessant fighting,
which consists in my head?
To justify you?
There can be no justification, for him
who set in place every law.
The moral, the physical, and natural.
So then what are they, and why do they
persist?
A battle that rages over me?
Spilling over from the ethereal battleground
in which carcasses amass;
Physical, and all too tragically spiritual!

So chaotic, but perfectly defended, kept
from me as unseen and trifle.
So as to distract me wholly from
the purpose of my mind, which is
the adherence, the observance of your law.
The appreciation of what you've given me.
They're falling, and failing, but boast I will not
"...Lest (I) fall..."
Sincerity is the incredible grasp,
of how far it would be, and how upon that
"rock" (Yahshua) I should be rendered
tiny bits, the refashioning of,
only he would know.
From before the creation of the world,
you knew me, and this very moment.
I will squabble, stumble, and quite
possibly fall. But my Abba,
by your will, through your GRACE I
acknowledge, and profess your TRUTH!

El Shaddai you make genius out of the stagnant.
You create fools out of those full of their
own brand of WISDOM.
You allow those who fear you to move closer
to you, if only to know your peace.
You show patience to those who ignore you,
for those who curse you, a patience,
"...That transcends all human understanding."
That there could be no sweeter words than those
configured by my savior;
than those known to come from your mouth.
The filling of this vessel is allowed
only by your breath which keeps me
alive, yet you love me enough to let me
choose you, thank you for my FREEDOM!
Thank you for refilling me with the
understanding of what it truly means to
be empty.

While the battle rages on,
I in respect to you fighting for me:
Place the belt of truth around my waist.
I firmly affix the breast plate of righteousness
upon my chest. Protecting my heart once so
cold now of flesh, no longer stone.
Pulling down tightly the helmet of
salvation over my head guarding my
thoughts of you in Christ Yahshua (Jesus.)
Lacing up, strapping upon my feet the boots
of the Gospel of peace. No matter
the slopes or the inclines I may stand
and not slide, confident in my footing
the grasping and espousing of your
wisdom.
My left arm adorned with your shield.
It glistens under the rays of your sons
light. Affirming to the enemies the
plight of their arrows, and their darts.
When I raise my shield of FAITH
in defense.
In my right hand my weapon,
"...sharper than any two edged sword,
piercing even to the dividing asunder
of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow..."
The word of you Yahweh.
That I may sever all that tries to bind,
and tether me to this finite existence.

I stand a sheep to the slaughter,
for sure, but I too stand a soldier for
you El Shaddai, my SAVIOR Yahshua
Hamashiach.
Defiantly  announcing your name
my battle cry, and the skies open, all
you've granted me if I only offer my
complete submission. AMEN!
The Dybbuk Feb 2020
There is something innate,
stirring,
when I look into the light.
It is, as the whisper of a spirit,
with neither form nor sound,
an invisible fly, beating at the eardrum
of humanity,
and its music moves us like no other.
And I look into the lights of the lecture hall,
and tears melt from icicles behind eyes,
and I whisper to nobody, "I surrender."
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