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"pleasures" poems
Burning from a flame hidden it resides burning deep inside engulfing our spirits with pleasures beyond divine
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
Flame on.
Surrender your body to me. Bare body pressed against the brick wall Hands tied overhead Hair pulled back Your body so warm and hot Feel my ice cold kisses on your shoulders My wet tongue running up your neck Feel the red imprints of my hands on your *** Moan for me ever so slightly Beg me for more Beg for me to never stop Shutter at the feeling of my hands on your ******** Bite those full lips at the pleasure of my teeth markings on your body Surrender yourself to me Let me toss you on fresh sheets Spreading your legs apart Gently placing my hands on your slit Rubbing slowly against soaked laced ******* Tongue tied in your body Feed me your taste Fill me with the flavor of your ***** Grip my head with your legs Watch me explore your insides Stare at me with such intense eyes Stare as I climb up tracing every curve with my velvet tongue Wrap your glistening legs around my waist Take me raw till you can no longer go Grip the sheets, head tilted back Claw at my body I'll  guide you along the line between pain and pleasure Surrender yourself to me Let's explore our pleasures together.
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 5:11 AM UTC
Surrender
#*It's delight which flows without measure from the assurance that through every circumstance and detail of my life God is ever beckoning and drawing me into deeper intimacy with Himself, ever whispering to my heart, “Come closer still.” Joy in the midst of devastating loss, crushing disappointment, unbearable pain or scourging heartache is about the discovery of treasure so precious and rare that it never could have been found had we not been forced to walk a path of affliction in the desert. It's in the isolation and brutality of the wild that we come to know Him in ways that transcend the span of human imagining or desiring, and all the songs and all the poems and all the masterpieces taken together cannot capture an estimable description of the pleasures that might be unearthed there. There lies before us in our afflictions a vast and wondrous beauty yet undisclosed behind the fog, and like a theatrical curtain slowly pulled back to reveal a perfectly set stage He will sublimely unveil it in His own directed time. And we shall be elated at the view, for it's against a backdrop of struggle and darkness that the best and most moving of stories have always unfolded. Maybe nothing truly beautiful can ever take form on earth without the shroud of mystery and brokenness surrounding it— at least not the kind of beauty that takes our breath away and leaves us yearning to possess it.*#
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
What Is True Joy?
can not be found in the flesh For as warm it may be As soft to your fingers it is It will lay soft and cold eventually can not be found in gold Yes, it never loses its luster But many coins you need to muster And no number will fill the gap in your soul can not be found in others For the laughs may distract The facade will crack And still you will be empty inside ilusive as it may be It follows you around It never left For within you she rest Waiting to be awoken And while the rest might feel great They serve as nothing but crutches On your own you must stand If you are to revel On the pleasures life offers... To improve one self To look on path troded It´s essence To know there is more With hunger jump forth It´s rushes To balance the mind With the desire of the heart It´s key And once held in hand You will understand That happiness flies like a bird But behind she left Tranquility And the knowledge That you can get it again...
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
Happiness,
Your flame glows And flame throws Insane vibes Than makes my viens flow My body over heats To temperatures Celsius unknown   our bodies taking measures Heighten pleasures Too bad to be a miracle Too good to be forgotten Memories clone Yet, it's heaven sent by principle Our bodies quake with sensations Unbelievable Reaching heights without ****** unachievable Take loving making to the next decimal Feeding our appetites until we are plenty full And our eruptions stop exploding And we lay there motionlessly stile Calm as a lonely lake as satisfied as ice is chill Cooling each other down like the wind does the sun Looking at each other like our work here is done
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
Molten
I want to dip my tongue, inside your flavor. With no waver, I savor your taste. With a desires pace, your liquids turned to paste, a love potion laced with our grace. Delicious lips glistening with ours juices. A cocktail saturated with your nectar. Our fountain we await, satisfaction at a hieghted state. I greet you with my pleasures at an amazing pace, our lips embrace lacerated by my tongue -- I trespass your pearly gates, where your pleasure awaits, I await - at the mercy of our warm embrace.
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Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Fountain
Delicious, fill me with your flavor let your sweetness take residence in my mouth treat your essence like a fragrance and wear you out make you my delicacy and bare your fruits delicately until our pleasures amount releasing your pure juices like a faucet they spew out
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May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 5:11 PM UTC
Devour
Ah yes, the magic of human touch, Trusting to warm my soul's skin Tis nature of loves connection, as such. My body accepts, oh if you only knew Like an honored guest, I grin Anticipating the pleasures, one of the few. Skin to skin, our bodies converse. Uninhabited, my mind wander Deep inside, my craving thirsts. Artful hands sculpt with purpose Lulling layers open, you're quite the artist Soothing caress melt my body formless I'm yours, silently, I surrender. As my flesh cries out for more Arching waves of splendor Rewarded my senses sated. With newfound clarity reborn Mind, body and spirit replenished. I thank you for your gift of touch. Lovingly, I would return the favor, as such.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Touch
Simple words escape ever so parted lips Voices of the sweetest seduction My undeniable weakness “I want you” Whispers of the finest intentions The warmth of your breath brushes across my ear Fingertips glide down the shapeliest of curves Caressing jewels Excitement builds Moans escape... Drenched in the sweetest place Passion Inhale, Exhale The deadliest of pleasures My needs, your wants All accounting for desperate measures Start, Stop Location is no matter Subtract clothes Divide legs I speak in tongues your body loves to hear Tracing lines in ways you cannot manage to bear I am the worst of teasers.
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
Irresistible Seduction
#there are the ones that feel it climb up the shadow towards the light, hesitation on every rung, each wave of the arising       overwhelms  unabated ― and woe betides those who are on the run from a storm's deluge A rousing ocean breeze stirs inside the memory of an unframed seashell lying on the hearth mantel; heightened sensitivity lapping soundlessly, spindrift plashing the shoreline of another world's feigned peace Perhaps the muted voice of guilty pleasures, hushed by their own hidden truths Feeling the unfelt textures of every stifled vibration left unbreathed The naked truth befallen so cold and lonely Running in circles, volatile as all those      unspoken excitations raging ― and the whispers of those who hear not the voices in the wind An emotionally enslaved  heart tarries,  marooned high and dry in a memory on a distant sand bar      lain fallow for so long ― stagnant darkness of an unsated soul gathered on the back of a parched tongue sullied wordless Rising up through a dusty hieroglyph corridor through an unlocked labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes from somewhere left behind in an incomprehensible abandoned wake It's getting harder and harder    for an insatiable soul to breathe ...    climbing up a tree trunk― up within the silence of the listening tree   Toes dug into the rough bark furrows ― fingers reaching upwards beyond their deepest known grasp A shadow stranded out on a hangin' bough hearkening without ears that hear: “perhaps they’ll listen now“   the wingless bird sings in psalms that fly away on tattered feathers over untamed waters roil Back to nature’s waning youth, the bough bends unbroken to taste the freedom of the wild absolving seas Jesse Stillwater June     2018
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
"Perhaps they never will ..."
#there are the ones that feel it climb up the shadow towards the light, hesitation on every rung, each wave of the arising       overwhelms  unabated ― and woe betides those who are on the run from a storm's deluge A rousing ocean breeze stirs inside the memory of an unframed seashell lying on the hearth mantel; heightened sensitivity lapping soundlessly, spindrift plashing the shoreline of another world's feigned peace Perhaps the muted voice of guilty pleasures, hushed by their own hidden truths Feeling the unfelt textures of every stifled vibration left unbreathed The naked truth befallen so cold and lonely Running in circles, volatile as all those      unspoken excitations raging ― and the whispers of those who hear not the voices in the wind An emotionally enslaved  heart tarries,  marooned high and dry in a memory on a distant sand bar      lain fallow for so long ― stagnant darkness of an unsated soul gathered on the back of a parched tongue sullied wordless Rising up through a dusty hieroglyph corridor through an unlocked labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes from somewhere left behind in an incomprehensible abandoned wake It's getting harder and harder    for an insatiable soul to breathe ...    climbing up a tree trunk― up within the silence of the listening tree   Toes dug into the rough bark furrows ― fingers reaching upwards beyond their deepest known grasp A shadow stranded out on a hangin' bough hearkening without ears that hear: “perhaps they’ll listen now“   the wingless bird sings in psalms that fly away on tattered feathers over untamed waters roil Back to nature’s waning youth, the bough bends unbroken to taste the freedom of the wild absolving seas Jesse Stillwater June     2018
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Challenges and competition notified. Every step codified. Tears and sweat pacified. Achievements and advancement glorified. Regression and depression terrified. Muscles and struggle verified. Foes and conspirators mortified. Plans of progress and purpose sanctified. Grace and the Goodness of God testified. Sweet pleasures of life. Trials, Torment and Torture. Eulogies and Elegies of visible characters. Promising and decisive. No conflicts, No dilemma.
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
HARD WORK
In a playful vision sent Your ****** homologue Of amber shins and pale phalanges Weaves four-leaved clovers. In response, ***** spurs And protean winged descent To float into your kaleidoscopic star: Gliding, Freely falling, To rest in lace extremities. There in our bed of sensual feet, Sunflowers breath, Whose burnished rotating petals Gather me in wisps, Each spiral frond, Gyring Before death's voids Is drawn in purls. And in pleasures held, Cossetted in latticed limbs, A ***** lustrous rich embrace; Denuded and alive! And with abandon kissed:     Bony toes     Tendons     Deep arches     Shins     Ankles,     Sweetmeats,     Light and delicate. As here between pretty shins And fleshy silken feet Our ascent begins Rising, From low regions, To scale new night, And crown our heights. This lovers' leap into prismatic reproduction In the empty Cosmic wastes      In a web is caught! Where feet and toes inspire Continuity for pointed stars. As material possibilities collide The lust for life Is born in non-existence: So in our nest of feet, Mating in the game With heads thrown back, Of lust drink deeply we.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Kaleidoscopic Feet
He swells swollen with pleasures loathing her walls anticipate hard measures imploding the crash of his body sending waves of pleasure into her current his throws of passion deepen her depths to depths unmeasured
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
Motion of the Ocean
Red wine bubbling in the back of your throat Rewind the kindling of a fire you won't put it out Oceans unchanging, swallowing whole boats You and I left in the void, to drown I am unfeeling and fleetingly alive I am lonely and slowly finding peace of mind You are salt spilled across table tops You are a child tearing apart and lost. Dirt on your knees and scabs on your skin We live free with the pleasures of sin You taste him on your tongue, Songs we left unsung. Your old jacket, the one you gave me, Well the zipper broke last week. And the sleeves are torn apart, It's grown too tight, it don't fit how it did in the start Metaphors for a broken heart How the ocean rages and pulls us apart Smiles for the tattered soul How the angels play their role.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Metaphors for a broken heart
Throws of pleasure, buried under a sea of passion. writhing under skin; swells of flesh, peak out, swollen with desire. Thirsty for heat, Desperate measures. Sticky limbs, drenched with pleasures. of two devious minds, wearing nothing but a smile, two bodies collide and form one figure.
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
Figures
Most of the time, I am just invisible. Until his eyes stripped me of my honesty. Honestly, with one look, he saw things in me, I never knew existed. Fantasy, twisted, I read pleasures from passages of ecstasy, that still haunt me intensely, immensely and pleasurably. His love for me was a force of nature; that captivated me and still holds my soul captive, as it sets me free. Mystique meets her Majesty Love is pain and pain is love, as soon as I felt his pain, I fell in love; uncontrollably.
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Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 9:53 PM UTC
Naughty by Nature
I am hungry and it is reflected in the contours of every inch                   of skin every cell a-flutter tiny wings and heartbeats activated within right down to the ribosomes and kidney-shaped mitochondria right up through epidermis woven as threads of softness penetrating your inner hard, dark parts causing them to melt into                 my light I am craving to feel your absolute heart's raging core my aching flesh burning, my heart, wrapped in a love               so pure My need to be devoured surfaces in smoothness, at a glance You feel it acutely, no room for doubt or subtle chance                I am ravenous for muscle-worked arms (arms that could easily try to break) to be supremely gentle as you part my thighs like the ocean and sacredly partake the slickness of your tongue in my feminine grace the stains of my love drenching                 your noble face your eyes on mine as I sharply breathe          need to hold your head stroke your            hair know that for me               the king takes off that garland of gold breaking free of all symbols of status the only real treasure the queen who gives to him, and who he now pleasures      and I let myself be consumed with the reverence of a psalm my love pouring into you healing your hurts,                like a balm in this private landscape we are the most ferocious of tender estuaries in an eternal vista in this hour of somewhere, the sea hauls us in like ancient creatures,      bringing the fossils back to life in lustrous foam as they          inch their way into the spirals     that we feel we could call      home‎
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
Tender Estuaries
I am hungry and it is reflected in the contours of every inch                   of skin every cell a-flutter tiny wings and heartbeats activated within right down to the ribosomes and kidney-shaped mitochondria right up through epidermis woven as threads of softness penetrating your inner hard, dark parts causing them to melt into                 my light I am craving to feel your absolute heart's raging core my aching flesh burning, my heart, wrapped in a love               so pure My need to be devoured surfaces in smoothness, at a glance You feel it acutely, no room for doubt or subtle chance                I am ravenous for muscle-worked arms (arms that could easily try to break) to be supremely gentle as you part my thighs like the ocean and sacredly partake the slickness of your tongue in my feminine grace the stains of my love drenching                 your noble face your eyes on mine as I sharply breathe          need to hold your head stroke your            hair know that for me               the king takes off that garland of gold breaking free of all symbols of status the only real treasure the queen who gives to him, and who he now pleasures      and I let myself be consumed with the reverence of a psalm my love pouring into you healing your hurts,                like a balm in this private landscape we are the most ferocious of tender estuaries in an eternal vista in this hour of somewhere, the sea hauls us in like ancient creatures,      bringing the fossils back to life in lustrous foam as they          inch their way into the spirals     that we feel we could call      home‎
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Build me a slow boat to Timbuktu via China Heave down a fleecy cloud and let me float to Nirvana Hunt me a unicorn and let me ride to the Enchanted Forest Find me a giant eagle and let it lift me to Outer Mongolia East 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' Show me a Church and I'll show you a hall full of Sinners Point out a wife and I'll reveal a liar and a fake and none dimer Call a Doctor and its a Monster who betrayed the Hippocratics That Government Boss is a cruel heinous snake without ethics 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' See that Preacher and see a spineless hypocrite back-stabber That lover was nothing but a sick deranged false **** twister My dear acquaintance a heartless corrupted shyster unhinged A Newsagent full of pitiless, gloomy, vile, psychotic joy-suckers 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' That friend of years a bloodsucking Judas who betrayed and stole Uncles who rained terror with sadistic pleasures in parts unwhole Show me nieces and find two-faced ******* with poisons in veins Neighborhoods full of silent killers and Rapists of truthful genes 'please don't me leave here amongst demons with human faces' A vicars' daughter wielding angst axes better than a viking The pathetic Moors zombies tearing flesh on masters beholding The dead-eyed Arabs salivating madly or at daggers drawn Contemptible Men-kids with pin ****** used as King's pawns 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' Build me a cottage in rolling green fields with blue skies Find me a fair maiden with a true heart and warming smiles Show me a place that holds fairness and justice real and dear A world with humanity we're all sisters and brothers for care 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' [email protected] August2018
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
Please Don't Leave Me Here.........
Build me a slow boat to Timbuktu via China Heave down a fleecy cloud and let me float to Nirvana Hunt me a unicorn and let me ride to the Enchanted Forest Find me a giant eagle and let it lift me to Outer Mongolia East 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' Show me a Church and I'll show you a hall full of Sinners Point out a wife and I'll reveal a liar and a fake and none dimer Call a Doctor and its a Monster who betrayed the Hippocratics That Government Boss is a cruel heinous snake without ethics 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' See that Preacher and see a spineless hypocrite back-stabber That lover was nothing but a sick deranged false **** twister My dear acquaintance a heartless corrupted shyster unhinged A Newsagent full of pitiless, gloomy, vile, psychotic joy-suckers 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' That friend of years a bloodsucking Judas who betrayed and stole Uncles who rained terror with sadistic pleasures in parts unwhole Show me nieces and find two-faced ******* with poisons in veins Neighborhoods full of silent killers and Rapists of truthful genes 'please don't me leave here amongst demons with human faces' A vicars' daughter wielding angst axes better than a viking The pathetic Moors zombies tearing flesh on masters beholding The dead-eyed Arabs salivating madly or at daggers drawn Contemptible Men-kids with pin ****** used as King's pawns 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' Build me a cottage in rolling green fields with blue skies Find me a fair maiden with a true heart and warming smiles Show me a place that holds fairness and justice real and dear A world with humanity we're all sisters and brothers for care 'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces' [email protected] August2018
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I don't think you'll be surprised But I've had you running through my mind Like a certain blue hedgehog Quite frequently I find That smile, so cute and innocent Its like sugar for my eyes But... the thoughts going through my mind Haven't all been pure I may not know the pleasures of the flesh But id be more than happy to discover them with you, of that you can be sure I want to create paintings on your body with my hands and lips To taste the passion in your voice, and off both sets of lips You're a diamond and I want to make your ***** shine like the gem you are In other words, I want to make you feel like a work of art.
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
A Work Of Art
My Third eye Clouded Busy blurry skies What have I done To the you and I To the me and you That could never be Drawn to these pleasures Between these sheets Smothering moonlight Deep summer heat Damping lust Still no retreat The flame burns Even hotter When You and I cheat ..... Take my hand and come with me to dreams of love and lust Where....drifting down the blurry skies the eye need not adjust, Where.... moonlight dances merrily reflecting us unseen. The smoldering heat of our united union,   except to you and me No need to worry the things that we do between the sheets of carnal pleasure that draws me to you.   Together we will reach our peak as we share this glorious night. Lie with me beneath the moon and feel its timeless flight.
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Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 4:50 PM UTC
No Shame (collaboration with Traveler)
‘tis but a thing she does The female assassin They say that poison is her weapon… maybe on occasion But that is a level she’s surpassing You see, what they fail to understand is that she doesn't take lives for vengeance ‘tis but a profession The beautiful, tantalizing female killer Her male victim’s obsession One minute she’s a runway model… with her devilishly sinful grin A smile so engrossingly enticing… full, red lips that cut across her face playfully Against her flawlessly peaceful skin One word for that…’killer’ Forbidden pleasures… blissful sin She’s taken out big names… maybe even one or two heads of state To dinners she’s escorted these men… and later on left them in their deadest state She walks through the front door, but when leaving she can scale windows Agility is her forte… ‘Man killer’ she is The black widow… In a red dress You may be reading this thinking you can never fall prey to her seductive tentacles ‘tis an argument I do not even wish to get into I digress.
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
Seductive Reaper...
you stole my light when i told you to stop and you ignored my red light and kept going like my body was undiscovered land and you were a colonizer. perhaps my asking you to stop turned you on made you hungry. you looked at me with your hungry eyes like i was fresh meat for you to take and have for yourself ignoring my stop signs cries screams because i am nothing more than an object to you made for your manipulation and pleasures.
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
"no."
Though the first carried more miles, the second day of the hike was totally and unapologetically uphill. 
When you ascend, hiking becomes the zen of endurance. 

First, you are stripped of all the pleasures of hiking. Your excitement is boiled into lactic acid. Your love for the trail is baked, hardened and dehydrated into thoughts of laying down in the sun until the heat shrivels you into an unconscious raisin. 

Try as you may to put on your “isn’t hiking just a slice of heaven?” face, strangers passing you on the downhill stride can only see your “PLEASE GOD, HELP ME OR ******* **** ME” face. As much as hiking really is a small slice of heaven, there is no denying the living-death of taking 10 straight miles to the knees under the chaffing hell of a 50 pound sack in the relentless sun. 
 But when you’re back in an office, sitting on your cushy little ergonomic chair, you long for the sweat and the torture that forces your mind to the ankle deathtraps of mountain terrain. To the deep valley behind and below you, and the crystal basin at the foot of the granite Giants. 

The worst thing you can do is ignore the pain—that makes it relentless. Instead you focus on the pain until you become it. The only thing left is the moment between each step, when you remember why you are here and what it is worth. Every time your foot touches dirt, it leaves twice the footprint. One on the mountain and another in your memory where you will safeguard the misery of your ascent and hold on for dear life. One day, when your knees are too weak and your body can no longer table your pack, all the pleasures and joys of the trail that you once thought dissipated in the steam of uphill toil will come rushing back with the magnified strength of every year between you and the present you once knew and respected enough to actually live. And if you didn’t, if you let it only be pain to get through and not to focus or dwell on, then that is what it is and will always be. A dull memory of pain, dark and somber and incomplete.
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
The Zen of Hiking
Though the first carried more miles, the second day of the hike was totally and unapologetically uphill. 
When you ascend, hiking becomes the zen of endurance. 

First, you are stripped of all the pleasures of hiking. Your excitement is boiled into lactic acid. Your love for the trail is baked, hardened and dehydrated into thoughts of laying down in the sun until the heat shrivels you into an unconscious raisin. 

Try as you may to put on your “isn’t hiking just a slice of heaven?” face, strangers passing you on the downhill stride can only see your “PLEASE GOD, HELP ME OR ******* **** ME” face. As much as hiking really is a small slice of heaven, there is no denying the living-death of taking 10 straight miles to the knees under the chaffing hell of a 50 pound sack in the relentless sun. 
 But when you’re back in an office, sitting on your cushy little ergonomic chair, you long for the sweat and the torture that forces your mind to the ankle deathtraps of mountain terrain. To the deep valley behind and below you, and the crystal basin at the foot of the granite Giants. 

The worst thing you can do is ignore the pain—that makes it relentless. Instead you focus on the pain until you become it. The only thing left is the moment between each step, when you remember why you are here and what it is worth. Every time your foot touches dirt, it leaves twice the footprint. One on the mountain and another in your memory where you will safeguard the misery of your ascent and hold on for dear life. One day, when your knees are too weak and your body can no longer table your pack, all the pleasures and joys of the trail that you once thought dissipated in the steam of uphill toil will come rushing back with the magnified strength of every year between you and the present you once knew and respected enough to actually live. And if you didn’t, if you let it only be pain to get through and not to focus or dwell on, then that is what it is and will always be. A dull memory of pain, dark and somber and incomplete.
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Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul: I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty; a slave, chosen to be a bride; an orphan, chosen to be an heir; an enemy, chosen to be a friend. I deserved nothing but wrath and death yet received everything of life and grace. I am loved beyond any dreaming of it and blessed above all worldly wealth. I have the incomparable birthright of those whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ— righteousness from Him and peace with Him. I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son. I was paid for by the Son’s own blood and am "engraved on the palms of His hands." I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory. I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight. ***What more could I ask? But that's only the beginning...*** I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be, for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ," "given everything I need for life and godliness" through knowing Him and His precious promises, "an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade— kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me. I've been "raised up and seated with Christ"; my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father, and "He will fill me with joy in His presence, with eternal pleasures at His right hand." Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened with the spirit of wisdom and revelation" to see what’s already been prepared and given to me and to know much more fully the One Who has so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it. As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him (based only on His merits, never my own), I am given free access to my account in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life, even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones. I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, but He Himself is my greatest treasure. Without Him, nothing else matters. Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him, clinging to Him and carried by Him. When I finally become desperate for Him alone, I begin to understand the profound reality of all He desires for me and offers to me in my spiritual inheritance in Him. There are infinite presents to be unwrapped in His presence which cannot be told in human words or comprehended by mortal minds, but they wait to be taken hold of by any and all who would take hold of Him. ***For He gives and gives and gives and gives, and even when He takes, He gives.***#
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
~ BLESSED BEYOND ~
Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul: I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty; a slave, chosen to be a bride; an orphan, chosen to be an heir; an enemy, chosen to be a friend. I deserved nothing but wrath and death yet received everything of life and grace. I am loved beyond any dreaming of it and blessed above all worldly wealth. I have the incomparable birthright of those whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ— righteousness from Him and peace with Him. I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son. I was paid for by the Son’s own blood and am "engraved on the palms of His hands." I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory. I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight. ***What more could I ask? But that's only the beginning...*** I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be, for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ," "given everything I need for life and godliness" through knowing Him and His precious promises, "an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade— kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me. I've been "raised up and seated with Christ"; my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father, and "He will fill me with joy in His presence, with eternal pleasures at His right hand." Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened with the spirit of wisdom and revelation" to see what’s already been prepared and given to me and to know much more fully the One Who has so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it. As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him (based only on His merits, never my own), I am given free access to my account in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life, even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones. I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, but He Himself is my greatest treasure. Without Him, nothing else matters. Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him, clinging to Him and carried by Him. When I finally become desperate for Him alone, I begin to understand the profound reality of all He desires for me and offers to me in my spiritual inheritance in Him. There are infinite presents to be unwrapped in His presence which cannot be told in human words or comprehended by mortal minds, but they wait to be taken hold of by any and all who would take hold of Him. ***For He gives and gives and gives and gives, and even when He takes, He gives.***#
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