It seems as though my legs are under me again, strong and bearing little pain, but I am still just a little wary to really run right away.
Forgiveness and healing have overcome me, and I am forever grateful to God for this. Ken Blount was a great messenger, and I was quickly convinced and shared in his own personal revelation. Part of me doesn't want to let go, but I'm no Jacob. I'm not a God-wrestler.
I'm not sure of where to go now, but I understand it's time to build my altar, my memorial and head somewhere new.
I am ever grateful and of an undoubting faith in that my God has doted upon me once again, regardless of being ever undeserving, and given me freedom from self.
I do however, wake up lately with this uneasy feeling and with this unsettling discomfort. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I suppose I do at the same time as I type this out. It takes little sense to know that you've got to fill the hole left after drilling out a cavity, yes?
You took from me this desire to be a "good" man, whatever that means to people. You stole my hope and my faith. My love left me despite the fact I had just learned to love with a never before seen selflessness of magnificent capacities. I loved you because He loved me first, just the same, but now He just loves me. The things on my mind have been devoid of love as of late, but I must take heart because it looks like the refilling has begun. Hopefully again, my cup runs over with that love that I fostered for you. God graces me time and time again with wisdom and understanding that have taken deep root in my mind and spirit, so despite any feeling I might have, the sometimes buried wisdom still shouts out from beneath the surface and puts my heart to rest.
I think I'll take some of that.
Showing posts with label old. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old. Show all posts
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Old Piece...
I Passed Through the Looking Glasses
As I pass through, my breath remains behind. I hope it follows me through soon enough, but if not, this isn’t such a bad place to suffocate. I see the stories of a life lived from the inside of a silky, pressed porcelain parchment. Strangely, it’s dark inside despite the radiance that seems to shine outward. You are fair; you are sublime.
And I do not just pass out such an adjective without great care. I am methodical in my thought, in my labyrinth. I am aware and attentive to what you are not, to what you are. You lead the word effortlessly through the winding corridors and past my lips though. Yes, I say it out loud as well, but you’d never know that. Times New Roman, Arial, Verdana and Franklin could never possibly replicate the deep breath behind my voice or the shortness of breath thereafter. Oh, it seems as though my breath has caught up to me. Good, I like it here.
I’d give up my breath again to look around some more, but surely the circumstance would not allow it. It is what it is, but it is bittersweet. I would say it is more bitter. Regardless, I endure for the over concentrated sugary sweet that I am afforded hither and thither.
I know I have to go back through at some point, but I will put it off as long as I can. Do not wake me. Do not stir me. Let me be. I’ll come out soon enough, surely. If nothing else, you’ll make me, but please allow me to stay for just a little while longer. Allow me another quick look around.
Life has painted your walls this clockwork shade of orange. There is writing, on opposite walls, that reminds you to love thy sister and remember thy mother. Over on the right your prize buck is mounted with, fittingly, a prominent rack. I see one of those model ships in a bottle with a mount that is marked “Papa” sitting on a shelf beneath him. Then there, in the middle of the room, it appears as though a leprechaun and the talking rabbit were playing dice. That spotty memory, you know. It’s a good thing you take notes.
I suppose I’ll leave now. I’ll turn right around and come back through those looking glasses though, the clear framed ones, not the black ones, and I’ll look around some more. Maybe a new place will be open for exploration. I shall again vainly make an attempt at bringing my breath in with me, but if I can’t, I’ll come just the same.
You are exclusively sublime.
As I pass through, my breath remains behind. I hope it follows me through soon enough, but if not, this isn’t such a bad place to suffocate. I see the stories of a life lived from the inside of a silky, pressed porcelain parchment. Strangely, it’s dark inside despite the radiance that seems to shine outward. You are fair; you are sublime.
And I do not just pass out such an adjective without great care. I am methodical in my thought, in my labyrinth. I am aware and attentive to what you are not, to what you are. You lead the word effortlessly through the winding corridors and past my lips though. Yes, I say it out loud as well, but you’d never know that. Times New Roman, Arial, Verdana and Franklin could never possibly replicate the deep breath behind my voice or the shortness of breath thereafter. Oh, it seems as though my breath has caught up to me. Good, I like it here.
I’d give up my breath again to look around some more, but surely the circumstance would not allow it. It is what it is, but it is bittersweet. I would say it is more bitter. Regardless, I endure for the over concentrated sugary sweet that I am afforded hither and thither.
I know I have to go back through at some point, but I will put it off as long as I can. Do not wake me. Do not stir me. Let me be. I’ll come out soon enough, surely. If nothing else, you’ll make me, but please allow me to stay for just a little while longer. Allow me another quick look around.
Life has painted your walls this clockwork shade of orange. There is writing, on opposite walls, that reminds you to love thy sister and remember thy mother. Over on the right your prize buck is mounted with, fittingly, a prominent rack. I see one of those model ships in a bottle with a mount that is marked “Papa” sitting on a shelf beneath him. Then there, in the middle of the room, it appears as though a leprechaun and the talking rabbit were playing dice. That spotty memory, you know. It’s a good thing you take notes.
I suppose I’ll leave now. I’ll turn right around and come back through those looking glasses though, the clear framed ones, not the black ones, and I’ll look around some more. Maybe a new place will be open for exploration. I shall again vainly make an attempt at bringing my breath in with me, but if I can’t, I’ll come just the same.
You are exclusively sublime.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Arrival
I'll never forget that day.
That was the longest and highest escalator I have ever seen, and it just seemed like it went on forever. For that day it was my little motorized stairway to heaven. I wasn't even sure if you were around yet. I got to the top and walked forward slowly with my peripheral vision, all the while looking down at my phone. I put it away, looked up, and walked more intently with my head up. I saw restroom signs and just beneath them, behind those stanchions, I saw many people. I didn't figure you to be there just yet, but then I felt someone looking and noticed this baby blue beautiful moving about through the crowd. Your face showed a disbelief, a latent excitement, and, as was there so often, that unsureness of self.
You were so nervoues; I only saw your eyes meet mine for just a very quick second before I hugged and kissed you. I picked you up and squeezed you so tight, just elated while my throat closed up a little and it became harder to breathe. I couldn't believe how small and dainty you were. I loved it. I loved you.
You misdirected me nervously to the wrong area for my luggage so we sat there for about five minutes as we watched the same 3 or 4 oversized bags revolve around on a silver belt. This sweet older lady directed us in the right direction after we stood there long enough. All the while you pushed your hands deep into the large pocket in front of your hoodie; you pulled out your phone and flipped it open and closed. You would not even look me in the eye, but you stood beside me as tall as you possibly could with your fingers tangled in mine. I still sometimes smile at the thought of your little crooked fingers in my hand when I am alone. You were so worried, so unsure, apparently in disbelief that I was actually there. You complained of your dry skin, and your flakey hair, but I paid it all no attention. I thought you looked beautiful, and it lit my face up. My heart beat more deliberately; my breathing was slower, steadier, and I too was close to disbelief. I squeezed your little hand as we waited for my bag, pulled you a little closer and kissed you on the cheek several times before it made its way around.
Tonight is not a good night.
I am sad, and I am so aware of how much I miss you. I wonder if I'll ever speak to you again. I wonder if I could compose myself if I ever had the chance.
I loved you so extravagantly and recklessly, and I do love you, sweetheart.
I do not know how to not love you, so I do. I break at the fact that I will never have the opportunity to live out a life that speaks to you each and every day in a way that brings your life value and a recognition that you don't have to do anything to erase your past in order to be loved truly and genuinely. I loved you after I knew what I was getting myself into with hope and faith that God would build you and change your heart as you would allow Him... I guess it never came, that allowance. I guess I'll never be so fulfilled in the way I hoped for with all of my terrible heart... I guess not.
Good night, french fry.
That was the longest and highest escalator I have ever seen, and it just seemed like it went on forever. For that day it was my little motorized stairway to heaven. I wasn't even sure if you were around yet. I got to the top and walked forward slowly with my peripheral vision, all the while looking down at my phone. I put it away, looked up, and walked more intently with my head up. I saw restroom signs and just beneath them, behind those stanchions, I saw many people. I didn't figure you to be there just yet, but then I felt someone looking and noticed this baby blue beautiful moving about through the crowd. Your face showed a disbelief, a latent excitement, and, as was there so often, that unsureness of self.
You were so nervoues; I only saw your eyes meet mine for just a very quick second before I hugged and kissed you. I picked you up and squeezed you so tight, just elated while my throat closed up a little and it became harder to breathe. I couldn't believe how small and dainty you were. I loved it. I loved you.
You misdirected me nervously to the wrong area for my luggage so we sat there for about five minutes as we watched the same 3 or 4 oversized bags revolve around on a silver belt. This sweet older lady directed us in the right direction after we stood there long enough. All the while you pushed your hands deep into the large pocket in front of your hoodie; you pulled out your phone and flipped it open and closed. You would not even look me in the eye, but you stood beside me as tall as you possibly could with your fingers tangled in mine. I still sometimes smile at the thought of your little crooked fingers in my hand when I am alone. You were so worried, so unsure, apparently in disbelief that I was actually there. You complained of your dry skin, and your flakey hair, but I paid it all no attention. I thought you looked beautiful, and it lit my face up. My heart beat more deliberately; my breathing was slower, steadier, and I too was close to disbelief. I squeezed your little hand as we waited for my bag, pulled you a little closer and kissed you on the cheek several times before it made its way around.
Tonight is not a good night.
I am sad, and I am so aware of how much I miss you. I wonder if I'll ever speak to you again. I wonder if I could compose myself if I ever had the chance.
I loved you so extravagantly and recklessly, and I do love you, sweetheart.
I do not know how to not love you, so I do. I break at the fact that I will never have the opportunity to live out a life that speaks to you each and every day in a way that brings your life value and a recognition that you don't have to do anything to erase your past in order to be loved truly and genuinely. I loved you after I knew what I was getting myself into with hope and faith that God would build you and change your heart as you would allow Him... I guess it never came, that allowance. I guess I'll never be so fulfilled in the way I hoped for with all of my terrible heart... I guess not.
Good night, french fry.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Lie Down and Stare Up
I remember lying there with you...Beside you, moving your hair aside to kiss your shoulder and neck... whispering closely to your ear, "I love you. I'm so happy that you are all mine..." I breathed in deep with my chest to your back, arm around your waist to keep you ever so close, chin on your shoulder... I exhaled slowly, deeply, and my warm breath danced over your pale skin.
Beneath you, you weighed nothing. You leaned over and kissed me; I kissed you. Hands on your hips, holding you there... You looked down and every time you kissed me, your lips turned upward to smile wide. I moved my hands up your torso. I touched your lovely face. I slipped one hand over your cheek, caressing your skin slowly and moving my hand behind your neck, pulled you forward and kissed you... then the second hand snuck its way behind your ear, your neck. I held you with both hands while I pressed my lips to yours... I stroked your cheek with my thumb. I kissed you again... and again.
Atop you, your legs were strong, and so you kept me close. I rested on my hands, on my elbows and on you. I was afraid I'd break you, smash you, but you loved it. You wrapped yourself around me. Your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. We laid there quietly with the biggest grins. When we did separate just a bit, you help my face, and I kissed your soft lips lightly... deeply. I will never ever forget the very dim light that trickled through the half shut curtains or the light of the television in the darkness. I remember looking down at you several times here and there in this low ambiance, and the look that looked at me... oh my. I will never forget. At the time, I saw love love love in this stare, in this glare. I've never looked so deep and so far. That look was inside of me. Your eyes saw me inside and out. I was bare before you... but now it's all just barren. I now wonder what went through your head at these visceral times... these formerly wonderful times.
I loved you my dear, and I did my best to have my eyes speak the way yours did. They tore through me like I have never been... that stare.. that look. Those beautiful beautiful eyes turning blue.
I will never forget such a look, such a glimmer.
Of hope.
Hope hoped for.
Love left alone.
You shone so bright my dear.
You shone bright.
Atop.
I'll never forget looking down, looking into, such a vast vast place...
Beneath you, you weighed nothing. You leaned over and kissed me; I kissed you. Hands on your hips, holding you there... You looked down and every time you kissed me, your lips turned upward to smile wide. I moved my hands up your torso. I touched your lovely face. I slipped one hand over your cheek, caressing your skin slowly and moving my hand behind your neck, pulled you forward and kissed you... then the second hand snuck its way behind your ear, your neck. I held you with both hands while I pressed my lips to yours... I stroked your cheek with my thumb. I kissed you again... and again.
Atop you, your legs were strong, and so you kept me close. I rested on my hands, on my elbows and on you. I was afraid I'd break you, smash you, but you loved it. You wrapped yourself around me. Your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. We laid there quietly with the biggest grins. When we did separate just a bit, you help my face, and I kissed your soft lips lightly... deeply. I will never ever forget the very dim light that trickled through the half shut curtains or the light of the television in the darkness. I remember looking down at you several times here and there in this low ambiance, and the look that looked at me... oh my. I will never forget. At the time, I saw love love love in this stare, in this glare. I've never looked so deep and so far. That look was inside of me. Your eyes saw me inside and out. I was bare before you... but now it's all just barren. I now wonder what went through your head at these visceral times... these formerly wonderful times.
I loved you my dear, and I did my best to have my eyes speak the way yours did. They tore through me like I have never been... that stare.. that look. Those beautiful beautiful eyes turning blue.
I will never forget such a look, such a glimmer.
Of hope.
Hope hoped for.
Love left alone.
You shone so bright my dear.
You shone bright.
Atop.
I'll never forget looking down, looking into, such a vast vast place...
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Reacquaint
I've seen you every single day since.
I go to Target and see some Cracker Barrel cheese and I think of you.
A friend of mine mentions at dinner that his company's main offices are in Savannah, Georgia.
I see your polaroids lying around in random drawers of my desk.
I take a screen shot on skype and there next to the latest is you nodding off because you are tired.
I clean out my email and there is an itinerary confirmation for a plane to Atlanta.
The negatives from our time together are strewn about here and there.
My friends invited me to see Sublime tonight...
and this is only in the past week.
Some days I look at your picture and I see a blank screen.
I see no one there; I stare past.
Other days, I can't see your picture without breaking.
It's a knee jerk reaction and the tears come fast.
I don't know what this means exactly.
You are obviously still here somewhere, but it seems I've misplaced you for the sake of sanity.
Regardless, I don't think any of it has helped.
I am plainly broken.
I know where to go, but I can't seem to lift my legs and carry myself there.
I can't see it happening any time soon either.
It's very strange and very new.
Resiliency... hope... where are you?
It seems as though all three of you have left me the same.
Let me have just one.
I have met you again recently.
It breaks my heart.
Januaries and Octobers...
Fair skin.
Broken hearts.
Blue eyes.
One year later.
Oh my.
Oh my...
These late summer nights and the conversations running around them.
Goodnight; goodnight.
Sweet.
Precious.
Lovely.
Oh lovely...
I go to Target and see some Cracker Barrel cheese and I think of you.
A friend of mine mentions at dinner that his company's main offices are in Savannah, Georgia.
I see your polaroids lying around in random drawers of my desk.
I take a screen shot on skype and there next to the latest is you nodding off because you are tired.
I clean out my email and there is an itinerary confirmation for a plane to Atlanta.
The negatives from our time together are strewn about here and there.
My friends invited me to see Sublime tonight...
and this is only in the past week.
Some days I look at your picture and I see a blank screen.
I see no one there; I stare past.
Other days, I can't see your picture without breaking.
It's a knee jerk reaction and the tears come fast.
I don't know what this means exactly.
You are obviously still here somewhere, but it seems I've misplaced you for the sake of sanity.
Regardless, I don't think any of it has helped.
I am plainly broken.
I know where to go, but I can't seem to lift my legs and carry myself there.
I can't see it happening any time soon either.
It's very strange and very new.
Resiliency... hope... where are you?
It seems as though all three of you have left me the same.
Let me have just one.
I have met you again recently.
It breaks my heart.
Januaries and Octobers...
Fair skin.
Broken hearts.
Blue eyes.
One year later.
Oh my.
Oh my...
These late summer nights and the conversations running around them.
Goodnight; goodnight.
Sweet.
Precious.
Lovely.
Oh lovely...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
I feel like you did...
Looking at damn kids and babies and my mind spins. I'll never forget the day you showed me that video... you know the one.
It kind of freaked me out at first and once I really got my feet on the ground and got over it, I thought it was one of the raddest things I'd ever seen, and the idea of it all lit me up... my camera, my head, my heart, and it showed all over my face. Now it just breaks my damn heart. You asked me to open up, grow up, and plan for life.
Life.
I did it, and it wasn't so scary anymore. I was glad to prioritize and think about being a man seriously for the first time. It felt good, and I knew it would be fine if you were going in the same direction I was... the same direction you were going in. I saw a wonderful show of honesty (or so I thought), and newness. God shone through you and you'd never been so beautiful... so absolutely gorgeous inside and out.
Then, within two weeks time, you managed to rip yourself out of this bond... taking huge pieces of me with you and leaving yourself with me. Unfortunately for me, I don't know what part of you I was actually left with, but I do know that you violently took my heart with you... or the better, fresher part of it that had grown and learned to love with selflessness... the one little bit that staved off all the cold and the callous. You took that from me, and I find things racing through my head each and every day that I thought would never come close to consuming me like these have. It exhausts me.
Looking at damn kids and babies and my mind spins. I'll never forget the day you showed me that video... you know the one.
It kind of freaked me out at first and once I really got my feet on the ground and got over it, I thought it was one of the raddest things I'd ever seen, and the idea of it all lit me up... my camera, my head, my heart, and it showed all over my face. Now it just breaks my damn heart. You asked me to open up, grow up, and plan for life.
Life.
I did it, and it wasn't so scary anymore. I was glad to prioritize and think about being a man seriously for the first time. It felt good, and I knew it would be fine if you were going in the same direction I was... the same direction you were going in. I saw a wonderful show of honesty (or so I thought), and newness. God shone through you and you'd never been so beautiful... so absolutely gorgeous inside and out.
Then, within two weeks time, you managed to rip yourself out of this bond... taking huge pieces of me with you and leaving yourself with me. Unfortunately for me, I don't know what part of you I was actually left with, but I do know that you violently took my heart with you... or the better, fresher part of it that had grown and learned to love with selflessness... the one little bit that staved off all the cold and the callous. You took that from me, and I find things racing through my head each and every day that I thought would never come close to consuming me like these have. It exhausts me.
I am growing ever cold again.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
February '10
It's another cold morning without contrast.
Nothing pale and hot to the touch here in my bed.
Only a wildly vivid sunrise providing no heat.
There's only cold here today,
and I don't provide much beauty.
All I can do is look to the horizon at this beautiful painting of wispy clouds...
50/50 bar orange and white...
pastel blues...
the glowing red of cooling magma...
and the clouds?
These are lined with GOLD.
Honestly I prefer a much different scene.
I'd rather the cold tones of overcast light trickling into a dark room,
white against white.
Brown over blue.
Everything is painted so lightly by the cold blue brush of this sky.
The eyes are greeted with cold everywhere,
but the touch of my cold fingertips is nearly scalded.
She is past warm.
Although I am afforded this grandeur scene of creation...
Although I am kissed on one side by a sublime God given, life giving light of six thousand degrees strong...
Although I am kissed on the other cheek by a crisp breeze travelling 440 feet a minute,
a breeze that I have loved loved loved for as long as I can recall...
I would rather squint in that dark room again,
strain my eyes.
This white canvas of linen tinted the color of cold dead skin presents something in direct contrast.
Look hard enough, not like I have to, and there is beauty here.
Here she is.
Swaddled with limbs tangled between the cool cotton.
Everything in this room looks cold, including her skin,
but I am close enough to reach out and touch her.
So I will.
So I did.
This is perhaps the most warming ninety-eighty point seven degrees I have ever felt.
... I have ever experienced.
Though she has not awaken,
though she does not even realize that SHE is being touched,
she has touched me.
Sure, getting close might make me uncomfortable,
but I have willed past discomfort and complacency.
Though fear and distrust grab and swipe at my back and heels, I push closer.
Closer.
Close must I get to touch your warm creamy skin.
Closer and closer still do I wish.
I do not simply want to touch.
I want to press.
Flesh against flesh.
I seek to press against and and press in,
underneath your skin.
touching the epidermis from top to bottom.
From beneath and on top of.
I long to BECOME your skin,
and you become mine.
Fingers tied into one another.
Chests pressed.
Breath mixed.
Eyes and their gaze lost together in this tunnel that only you and I may enter.
Together.
One skin made from two.
Let God be praised with patience.
As you are restored by our Maker.
As I put away childish things...
I look forward to this beautiful intersection.
I patiently wait for this future expression,
not shallow and meaningless recreation,
but this ultimate fruition,
the pinnacle of an expedition,
of our love...
Storge.
Philia.
Eros.
intertwined and bound together by an ethereal love, THE Love:
Agape.
... by The Dove, The Lion, and The Lamb.
I pray that I am still here in the poorly lit room,
lying on the white sheets washed clean by a blood without blemish.
I pray I am here for the unveiling of this new creation in you.
This GRAND GRAND opening.
The curtains that keep light refrained will be torn, and the sun will shine through to kiss you, to kiss me.
To kiss the one we have become.
We will stand before God;
we will lie before our God in Spirit and Body.
Naked body.
... and there will be no shame.
We will explicate this flawless design of pairing with worship of
mind, heart, spirit, body.
We shall melt, meld, mesh and our lines of separation will be obscured before they become of no existence.
This love will resound, resonate and reverberate...
because it is pure and it is by God and God alone.
I love you because He loves me.
Because He loves you.
So run, my love.
Run towards Him, and we will come together as we come to Him.
He is the only adhesive that is permanent.
He is the only thing that might create a true bond and mix.
This covenant will be true and will not be broken.
The blood shed to signify and bind this came two millenia hence, but it is as fresh as ever.
Its power always unstoppable, unmoveable.
The perfect lays waste to the imperfect.
God's glory shines through.
... and there we are:
you, God, I.
Never once have I wanted as much to lie down in this cold and dark room.
I cannot wait.
I shall wait.
You are worthy of patient and gentle love.
Your value is beyond measure.
Waiting simply makes the most sense.
... waiting for such a marvelous miraculous display of love really is no problem.
It is a pleasure and delight,
for better pleasure and delight.
Atop a pure and Holy bedding,
after some wedding...
marked by a time of crisp breezes and trees shedding...
I really do hope to see this day.
I really do hope to live this day.
I really do hope for us this day.
I love you. I love you.
O precious and beautiful gift from God.
I love you...
<3
Nothing pale and hot to the touch here in my bed.
Only a wildly vivid sunrise providing no heat.
There's only cold here today,
and I don't provide much beauty.
All I can do is look to the horizon at this beautiful painting of wispy clouds...
50/50 bar orange and white...
pastel blues...
the glowing red of cooling magma...
and the clouds?
These are lined with GOLD.
Honestly I prefer a much different scene.
I'd rather the cold tones of overcast light trickling into a dark room,
white against white.
Brown over blue.
Everything is painted so lightly by the cold blue brush of this sky.
The eyes are greeted with cold everywhere,
but the touch of my cold fingertips is nearly scalded.
She is past warm.
Although I am afforded this grandeur scene of creation...
Although I am kissed on one side by a sublime God given, life giving light of six thousand degrees strong...
Although I am kissed on the other cheek by a crisp breeze travelling 440 feet a minute,
a breeze that I have loved loved loved for as long as I can recall...
I would rather squint in that dark room again,
strain my eyes.
This white canvas of linen tinted the color of cold dead skin presents something in direct contrast.
Look hard enough, not like I have to, and there is beauty here.
Here she is.
Swaddled with limbs tangled between the cool cotton.
Everything in this room looks cold, including her skin,
but I am close enough to reach out and touch her.
So I will.
So I did.
This is perhaps the most warming ninety-eighty point seven degrees I have ever felt.
... I have ever experienced.
Though she has not awaken,
though she does not even realize that SHE is being touched,
she has touched me.
Sure, getting close might make me uncomfortable,
but I have willed past discomfort and complacency.
Though fear and distrust grab and swipe at my back and heels, I push closer.
Closer.
Close must I get to touch your warm creamy skin.
Closer and closer still do I wish.
I do not simply want to touch.
I want to press.
Flesh against flesh.
I seek to press against and and press in,
underneath your skin.
touching the epidermis from top to bottom.
From beneath and on top of.
I long to BECOME your skin,
and you become mine.
Fingers tied into one another.
Chests pressed.
Breath mixed.
Eyes and their gaze lost together in this tunnel that only you and I may enter.
Together.
One skin made from two.
Let God be praised with patience.
As you are restored by our Maker.
As I put away childish things...
I look forward to this beautiful intersection.
I patiently wait for this future expression,
not shallow and meaningless recreation,
but this ultimate fruition,
the pinnacle of an expedition,
of our love...
Storge.
Philia.
Eros.
intertwined and bound together by an ethereal love, THE Love:
Agape.
... by The Dove, The Lion, and The Lamb.
I pray that I am still here in the poorly lit room,
lying on the white sheets washed clean by a blood without blemish.
I pray I am here for the unveiling of this new creation in you.
This GRAND GRAND opening.
The curtains that keep light refrained will be torn, and the sun will shine through to kiss you, to kiss me.
To kiss the one we have become.
We will stand before God;
we will lie before our God in Spirit and Body.
Naked body.
... and there will be no shame.
We will explicate this flawless design of pairing with worship of
mind, heart, spirit, body.
We shall melt, meld, mesh and our lines of separation will be obscured before they become of no existence.
This love will resound, resonate and reverberate...
because it is pure and it is by God and God alone.
I love you because He loves me.
Because He loves you.
So run, my love.
Run towards Him, and we will come together as we come to Him.
He is the only adhesive that is permanent.
He is the only thing that might create a true bond and mix.
This covenant will be true and will not be broken.
The blood shed to signify and bind this came two millenia hence, but it is as fresh as ever.
Its power always unstoppable, unmoveable.
The perfect lays waste to the imperfect.
God's glory shines through.
... and there we are:
you, God, I.
Never once have I wanted as much to lie down in this cold and dark room.
I cannot wait.
I shall wait.
You are worthy of patient and gentle love.
Your value is beyond measure.
Waiting simply makes the most sense.
... waiting for such a marvelous miraculous display of love really is no problem.
It is a pleasure and delight,
for better pleasure and delight.
Atop a pure and Holy bedding,
after some wedding...
marked by a time of crisp breezes and trees shedding...
I really do hope to see this day.
I really do hope to live this day.
I really do hope for us this day.
I love you. I love you.
O precious and beautiful gift from God.
I love you...
<3
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
