From heaven, fire Elijah called.
At Jezebel's word, fled he, terrified.
From duty, by heavenly chariot, removed.
On mountain top, with Moses, appeared.
Elijah, not the greatest prophet.
Nor Elisha, even doubly anointed.
But John, the greatest born of woman;
No fire nor bears, doubted and beheaded.

The waters rose, and the flood pours
The Spirit stirs, the Soul cannot but sing
The psalmist’s song, for both souls are one
Moved by the same Spirit.

May your year be measured
by revelations and not resolutions

May you see your uncountable gifts
than boastfully count meagre goals

May you on uncharted waters walk
than by uncertain stars fearfully chart

And may you in power compelled to fly
than all powers beseeched to comply

Rest is Reprieve
   from the burdensome curse of futile toils
Rest is Restoration
   of the perfection of life freshly bloomed
Rest is Return
   from Edenic exile to its fullness of beauty
Rest is Remembrance
   of Seven, an artefact of Mind
   a Mystery and a Measure of Time
Rest is Today
   for as long as its Today
   until the Eighth Day dawns.

A mystery you can read and hear:
reading without understanding
and hearing without seeing

The wicked studied and searched diligently
to be on the right side at the right time
only revealing and judging themselves as evil

For without the Prophet's spirit
your interpretation reveals your spirit
oblivious to its grotesque nakedness

Only in private are mysteries explained
as parables were thousands of years ago
for you don't throw pearls to pigs

Then the mystery is as plain as the news
but not as the world count news
even as time is not as the world count time

Infuriatingly frustrating to speak plainly
it's obvious and inescapable as the sun
then your eyes open and you see the blind

Broken, stumbling, falling and crawling
proud of their wits, strength, and unity
I turn to see and touch the face of the sun

Nicolaitans, enigmatic, but
     Balaam we think we’re certain.
Truly they’re both mysteries,
     wisely and deliberately hidden.
Flesh and blood cannot reveal
     but only the Father in heaven.
Jesus, the only teacher, explains,
     as always, privately to his chosen.

ordinary morning, late, bright and clear
weekend, no hurries, lets stay on in bed

in a flash, thunderous roar from above
mountainuous rock crashing, my mind saw

the skies echoed, rumbling in agony
rumbled and rumbled, on and on and on

strange sinister sound, trapped constant droning
UFO? baby superman landed?

rushed outside: no crash, just clouds in clear sky
rumble, rumble, rumble, man-made or what?

thundering, faint and far, near and muffled
none thunderous as the first rock that fell

then it rained: heavy; a soothing warm rush
droning masked, but strangeness etched, and lingered.

Every Seventh is a Rest.
The Day after the Seventh Sevens, a Renewal.
These are the Sevens of Days and Years,
Of Time marked by the Sun and Earth.

The Sevens of Moons is a Recursion
Every Seventh, a Seven, and is Half a Time,
The Fullness thereof, a Twelve.
And every Seventh, a Sacrifice.

I don't count, for I don't know what counts
A look, a smile, silence, to turn and walk away
What counts is for them for which it matters
Known only at the end when the whole revealed
And I, a new self, rebuilt from all that counted
Of others: their words, presence, absence, or kiss
And we become Others, as Others become Us
The perfection of unity, now, a shadow glimpsed

Self love is not love but anti-love
Parts are but to be mutually fitted
And imperfections only seeming
Ceasing to be in the perfected whole
But is not if any part seeks its own

Space is that between here from there.
I am here and you are there.
Time is that between now from then.
I am here and you're dead or yet to be.

My soul cries within
and says this cannot be.
We are one, not apart,
but always one.

Why do we see, here and there, now and then?
Why do my eyes betray me with distance and change?
Why am I an exile in a strange land,
of blind people speaking a strange tongue?
And all I hear is, "Take my hand, Follow me."

Making a living Wage from the living Word
Inevitably shades, obscures, taints and corrupts
Betrays the apparently living Faith
And exalting the Man than the Word

Balaam refused silver and gold in public
But embraced death's wages in secret
Certainly the labourer deserves his dues
But from his Master and not from fellow labourers

If the lives you saved leave you hungry
But for your whip, perhaps they're yet slaves

Glimpses, whiffs, and shadows
But suffice to know, fully assured
Even to wager all, life and more
And to forego all, even to fast
For Truth does not mock
And the fullness' unimaginable
But an unseen certain fulfillment;
Awakened is before the dawn
A lightening and not the light
In anticipation and excitement
In joyous fear, with trembling steps
Approach the glowing chasm
In angelic choruses and many suns
Lifted off the ground on many wings
Higher and vaster the sight
Intoxicating the fragrant scent
Fearsomeness in shadows unveiled;
And the chasm's edge is further yet
For even the Perfect waits for All
His wounds unhealed a promise
Of Oneness only when All is One.

Hush, Baby, Hush.
Soothing and Pillowy, Lush is Love.
Waters Rush, Rain Pour, Tears Fall.
Sleep, My Baby, Sleep.
For Dreams, Life's Balm, Soothes.

As words in a strange tongue
So symbols in wisdom;
Not any sounds are words
Nor stories, parables;
But angelic tongues do speak
Even as donkeys are wise.

The Earth hides the Prophet
And the Prophet hides the Sun
No Light shines on Earth
Nor is Light remembered
Night have turned to Day
And Darkness the new Light
Freedom is free and lawless
And only the fearless lives

Even as holy books do not make you holy,
keeping the law do not make you moral.
But sin shows itself most sinful
making mass murders and most ****** carnage holy.
And lawlessness hides behind the law
sulking and pouting in the White House.

I close my eyes, and sleep, my rest earned
The day's done, let tomorrow itself worry
If my eyes yet open, lest filled with songs
I lay still, and let the day itself worry
Thus I rise soul renewed spirit uplifted
Before dawn, at noon, the next day, or never

Small nations? Who cares!
Unless you're Israel. Who else?

Why spy and steal
Just slam the steel
Gift in hand, suggests
Your daughter - or son - or else?

Small nations
petty thieves
spy, steal from
small nations.

Big Boys see and laugh
All of mine is yours
If you worship us
You'll be one of us.

But Big Boy wannabe
China, will never be;
Splurged fake money by the ton
But none worships Dragon's son.

You feel you are the only
But there are many, socially distanced:
Unseen and unknown, gifted but imprisoned;
For the time is not yet, but it tarries not:
In half a time and not the fullness thereof.
Today is not a strange day;
That day will be when two are agreed,
And heaven, the sun, moon and stars
Fall down and bow low to Man.

So blind, the blind despairs.
So wicked, ***** grieves.

So indistinguishable from evil,
their judgement of evil, truly just.
So indistinguishable from their ruthless enemy,
the utter destruction decreed shall befall both suddenly.

The aggrieved weeps.
The wicked hardens.
Wickedness upon wickedness.
Endurance beyond Lot's,
given, the righteous' lot.

Son of Ham, slave of slaves, reigned.
Humiliated, but unrepentant, defiant, and unfearing,
They asked for one of theirs to be king.
Saul, anointed and prophesied, crowned king.
David, feigned madness, fought for the Philistines.

Our souls spoke, not in words,
but in emotions deeply aroused,
in the dream language of
fragmentary fleeting sights,
disjointed leaps, even bizarre things.

But of things only between us,
never spoken of, at all, in all of life,
neither known to anyone else,
mutually shared, unacknowledged,
in our deepest and most intimate selves.

Once I drink it all,
     and can drink some more.
Then just a cup or two,
     and I'm jabbering like a fool.
Yesterday, a swirl and a whiff,
     and my tongue's a pen and I sing in fifths.
Today, the spirit’s overflowing,
     and I'll do anything on a prayer and a wing.

Spy pigeon, oh spy pigeon,
perched high across my window
Bio engineered and slave,
Remote robot to unseen
master's master's whims
Chip in brain, camera in eye,
satcoms under its feathers
But Nature still reigns,
for here comes lady pigeon,
and off they flew and never return

from old unchanging darkly grasped
in story unfolding and the yet untold
but ear strays and heart schemes
the old unheard and story unchanging

Only the strong
     can be pierced by the sharp sword of truth
Only the strong
     walk unarmed unafraid into the fire
Only the strong
     carry the weak and shield the hapless
For strong is its own master
     never servant to mere powers

Trees silent and still its sufferings strange
But happening below unseen who knows
From electrons to cells to worms and moles
Its cries heard in the depths of earth
Its agonies pain the highest heavens
All life reached and touched and soothed
Its griefs mutually shared and resounded
And heavens weepingly reassure in every tear
That evil judged and nothing's futile
Greater yet the glory surpassing the beauty
In every branch, leaf, flower and fruit

Sword of Ishmael, robed in Assyria's mantle,
Consecrated of God, Prince of princes,
A Destroyer: the executioner of judgements.
A thorn driven deep into the heart of Jerusalem,
Tempting violent men, who pride in their strength,
as Excalibur and the Gordian Knot challenged
Arthur and Alexander.

Once you've sat at Wisdom's feet
and heard her teach the Truth
Light's unbearable and dark
and Teachers most grievously painful

For there is no error in the plumb line
Any tilt and crookedness is exposed
Every hearts' wickedness and deceitfulness
cries out and stinks as dead men's sores

There is a time to Reveal,
There is a time to Conceal.
There is a time to Stand in the Light,
There is a time to Search in the Darkness.

There is a time to Will as we know how,
and to Work with all the Might in our Arms.
There is a time to Yield to the Storms and Floodwaters,
and Surrender to the Thrills and Joys of the Fearsome Whirlwind.

There is a time to be Silent and Distanced,
and be Disciplined by Patience and Perseverance.

But there will be a time when Perfection is Restored,
Forgotten the Impossible Chasm
between the Glimpses and Glances
of the Desire for Oneness
in the Eyes of All Given Us,
And a Chorus of a Myriad upon Myriad of Angels shall Sing,
And Life shall be truly Life.

Incorrigible hoarder of the useless and perishables
Fridge full of forgotten decay and unfinishing leftovers
A comforting illusion of plenty and unending riches
To which she nibble away, always leaving behind ten percent

the Accuser is very much alive
without compassion nor mercy
full of wisdom and irrefutable lies
the Liar condemned the accused as liars

as Job's friends were to Job
in plain sight and hearing
undisguised inspired voices
unknowable but for the Truth within

woe to those with ears to hear
and to those with eyes to see
for there is only unending despair
but for the hope of the light of dawn

The sixth opened on the sixth
history prophesised, future past

sun and moon eclipsed
heavens and earth shaken
moon bloodied, stars fell
earth ripped apart, time perturbed

graves opened
the dead arose to life
the living buried themselves
immortal died
mortality perished

blood spilled, living marked
wait for the number of Man

The familiar and well trodden
Walked over each and every day
Yet they still surprise and bewilder
Not so much that stones moved
Or grass grows blue or pigs fly
But the eyes of the soul renewed
Like a newborn child's first sight
Seeing the world fresh and anew
In every step you walked the walk.

The Dragon speaks
of himself truly;
Unmasked and undisguised,
                                              in his own voice
of his vices, his schemes, and his doctrines
to lead astray the elect — if that is possible —

Feeding them bread laced
with leaven, the rot of wealth
and power of one’s will to believe;
With mighty signs in riches
                                             and magic.

But failure comes often and death slowly
— for Love is patient unto repentance —
but inevitably and unattributably:
for death and failures are but the dead’s faith
lacking and false,
                             which is nothing but the truth.

You did not choose your father,
Neither did your father knew you;
Your birthright was only seeming,
Never yours from the beginning.

As waters separated from waters,
So sheep separated from goats.
But there is no seas in the end,
And all tares burned and wheat gathered.

A bright star has fallen
Pain, and, anguish,
The world is in pain, and, anguish
Questions, questions, questions
But really these are non sequitur
Hearts weep and wail
But again, does nothing for the fallen

I stretched out my futile hands
I turned and groaned, I’m out of joint
I slammed myself against the wall.
I’m in pain. I’m in pain.
I cried but no tears no sound
Inextinguishable anguish gnawed me inside out

Can I pray? How do I pray?
Does it help, or I’m just helping myself?
Is he destroyed, irredeemably turned to the dark side?
And what if the answer is to trade places?
That the fallen may rise anew,
and given a second chance
Do I dare pray?

More wicked than *****, that ***** mourns
More evil than Satan, that Satan's justified
Lot, tormented in his soul, rescued
So shall it be the Righteous' lot
The Angel of Darkness shall descend
And ***** sits in Judgement seat

Stitched from pieces of Truth
Making a tapestry of a Lie
The signature handiwork
Of the Father of Lies

To which the wicked proudly cling
As vindication and justification
To beat the Truth
To submit to the Lie

The great puts itself last not first,
For it carries the weak, that all succeed.
And if strong falls where weak walks,
Surely the strong is less than weak.
It's no greatness to put yourself first,
For even the worm cares for itself.
The brave may die for one it loves,
But only Love dies for its enemies.

constantly confessing sins
      never knowing forgiveness
like a man with a book
      but unable to read
or a fool hoarding gold
      and dying from hunger

enslaved to the pride of life
       the measure of men
of winning and success
      compelled to boast
the works of one's arms
      flaunting wit, or foolishness

but oblivious to the exposure
      of their nakedness and vulgarity
of pain and confusion
      of faith in their strength and wit
of the Mark of Man
      on their arms and foreheads

believing by strength of will
      what is given and not by works
the soul betraying the flesh
      in double mindedness and hypocrisy
seduced by free will
      but enslaved to another's will

but the further apart,
      the more fervent
to execute the command
      to impose commands
on their neighbours
       when the only command is love

by the measure they measure
      they are measured
for they have become
      the enemy they condemned
and judgement is just
      for evil judges evil

so easy to fake the eye
a smile, a wave, a word
but we see not with eyes
nor hear with ears
we see with soul
liars denigrate the soul
into nonsense to silence it
that we believe only
the show put up for us to see

The sixth day began bright,
Sun’s fire, on earth, lighted;
Prophecies trumpeted,
Brighter, hotter, fires burned.

Eight, but one, ancient, kings
Ruled the day; If agree,
All in their hearts shall be;
The stars, Man's destiny.