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Created in secret, birthed majestically in power,
these three Eves 'o' mine.

Proud, strong willed woman,
determined to live this life, granted in perfection,
before time was measured,
you claimed your birthrite.
First breath drawn, you announced to this world,
with a voice filled with strength and might.
No powers could make you waver from your Call.
Lead in Spirit and Truth,
you carved your mark in this world and heavens above....
You raised flags and broke grounds
no mere man can bring down....
or erase.
You my first born Eve, leader amongst women,
have given birth,
to a Pathmaker to God's Glory.

Eve, called forth,
pure and gentle in heart and spirit,
followed first Eve,
into a world that would take from you,
and not all good returned....
Your gentle spirit walked in trust....
taken and ripped apart....
You, Eve, called forth with a mother's heart, deep within you
unprepared to pain and sorrows to come....
Strength and perseverance and persistence
grants you the trust and love
failed by Adams present and past....
Your heart, as big as oceans wide,
birthed in Love,
brings joy to the Father's Heart....

My last Eve, sent and called,
into a time strewn with obstacles.
But you Eve three, stronger, wiser,
than Eve's born twice before,
carved your own road.
Called into this world by command,
you saw and learned quick
to navigate the rocks strewn in your path....
You my tender last Eve....
willed into existence change
and changes to come and stay.
You called in desire in aloneness
and strength untapped.
You Eve three....
followed Eve's twice before you....
protected by Call and Grace....
Your seed will clear pasts
and set futures clear to come....
tufa alvi Oct 2014
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!
Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut?
Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground
and where the pathmaker is breaking stones.
He is with them in sun and in shower,
and his garment is covered with dust.
Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!
Till the day man goes to his eternal home,
Up and down this world he continues to roam
Frozen by the cold rain in the night
And warmed in a sunny day
Till the day air can no more seesaw in and out his lungs
He remains in the battlefield to make a way
A path his successors should find easier than he had
The bruises of a pathmaker must he incur because of a desirable future for his descendants he fights to secure

For the visionary man knows that
To make a better tomorrow
He must live like today is a borrow
A stuff not t spend on luxuries but to be invested in order to look back at and use as the foundation of his success storeys

Let the torn have her pound of flesh
Let the stones have their own next
As far as the skin is not taken away
The scars will only be the witness of the way

On and on he moves the success road till he sees that something improves

If our father's had remained in Babel till our days
The rest of the world would have been left a thick forest
A place crying to be discovered
So as life remains in the body of man
The task of getting the day's job done must he man
And that remains the plan
Actually wrote this some time ago but decided to unveil it now

— The End —