Twenty-four elders ,
seven chakra spirits ,
four beasts , now
the origins of carnal desire
and the Lake , of Glass .
☆
The Key of David ,
controlled by spirit ,
is in the temple
of the pineal gland
and in union with holy
secret .
☆
Subordinate to God's will ,
for thyne is the kingdom ,
thyroid and throat chakra --
the flaming sacred heart ,
triumphant in time and
tribulation .
☆
The Witness and his
golden sword of fire ,
the Seat of the Soul
attacked and defended
from evil .
To Virtue , the final victory
is delivered ,
true love and the Seeds of
the Cosmos .

When I beckon you
Come worship at my temple
Make love to my soul
I am seeking to fulfill
Our purpose in this lifetime

It's not that I hold my zeal in check.
It's always burning in my gut
coming out in different forms
as befits the ocassion:
compassion with tears,
generosity with wine,
challenge with disappointment,
each tempered with discernment,
watching my Father
and what's on his mind.

And yes, on this ocassion
that called for the grip of a whip,
for upset tables
and upset temple authorities.

They had taken their eye off their Father
and missed the whole point
of God's temple.
They had replaced prayer with profit.

I'm always zealous
and, yes, sometimes it's right
that I shout its fierce light.

Sometimes they need to be reminded
of just whose house this is.

The grey langurs screech

in the main city temple --


and bang the clappers.

He pulls a sword from a rock
And the crowd cheered
And he was worthy
And he will bring war

To those who are unworthy
.
And he will graze their fields
.
And he will burn their temples
.
He will reveal his true form, eating all the children of those who are not worthy
.

there was an old temple of Thai
whose monks just wanted to get high
so they got hooked on meths
but were exposed through their breaths
so they all bid their temple good-bye

now off they all went to rehab
to cure them of the sniff and the jab
but their bright robes and habit
of the monks and their abbot
made the inmates think they'd gone mad

"we're seeing orange" they said to the quack,
who put down his bottle of Jack,
said he, rather tight,
"i think you are right,
but the bottle is better than crack".

Not how I planned it
Not as I'd hoped
But better

Not the path we'd plotted
Not the course we charted
But higher

Not the story I'd written
Not the song I'd practiced
But oh,
it's been well told and well sung
and I've spent time with my Messiah.

He's given me another path.
A different gift.