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Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Stillness & Silence...

When darkness appears, the still solitude void of thought brings inference.
The metallic click of the obedient second hand languishes with a profound hesitancy.
Every minutia of sound and echo is magnified within our placid & reflective state.
The bustling radiance of the day is reduced to a mild whisper beyond the arid field of thought.
Stillness magnified by its own summoning to the forefront of the stage, bows gracefully but remains unaware.

Reaching across the bed frame, outstretched hands instinctively map out the nearby terrain.
Boulders of formed cotton stitched precisely into delicate patterns cloud the nape of the bed.
Empty pockets of solitude trap my emotions and besiege the delicacy of my idle existence.
Gone is my soul mate, her warmth and her gracefully steady hands and angelic outline.
Her physical body departed, her loving spirit ever present in this place.

Dream softly, my love.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Dream Softly....

A little light reading before my nightly prayers at bedside.
Good night. Dream softly.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Sitting here in the Darkness...

Pushing back the cloaks of heavy laden dreams with eyes too swollen to close, I sit, pray and think of what a transforming and hellish week it has been. My body is still conforming to a week without sleep nor nourishment. I physically am still battling for my vigor, but my heart is healing. God has truly touched my heart, my soul and my existence in this time. I had lost track of feeling His presence, His strength, His perfection. Being beaten and shaken by every fiber of my roots has transformed me completely.

I cannot shake the moments where I allowed the devil to infiltrate, steal and destroy. I wept tears of sorrow but that same vessel that once contained and overflowed with my despair will know joy in equal measure, in this lifetime. I trust a faithful God will deliver on His promise. I am living in peace, with no more distractions, mistrust or torn moments between relationships or commitments. I have finally broken my shackles, my weights, my regrets, and fear of the past and live completely content in the moment and what the present with God has to offer. I have come clean and been purified by trusting and obeying His word that the truth would set me free...and it has.

God has provided me a renewed heart, a changed spirit, a softened tongue. I consider every single second of time, calculate every individual muttering with precise knowledge of its weight and measure. I no longer believe that anything but the essence of love and God's promise is permanent. Moments are vital for in them we must recognize that we are the purveyors. We decide if the good or evil wolf will be fed. We decide the fate of our lives in each breath, in each tear, in each word we summon forth from our ravished hearts and scarred human experiences.

I see through His eyes and recognize the gift. The gift of each second, every sliver of time. For how we value every precious one of these units reveals and reflects how we value our relationship with God. I now see people with compassion, understanding, kindness, patience and the understanding that I did not embody Him in my actions, words and deeds.

I fall to my knees each morning and every evening and have already made this a daily habit. I pray asking for His strength, and I praise Him for another day of life before bed with words of love, faith and hope on my lips. I cannot yet dream softly and I may never know such a perfect restful sleep without my soul mate, but I still feel her presence, embrace and tender heart, even from a distance.

May God forgive me and continue to use me for good.
May He heal her heart, her injured spirit and remind her of His promise and restore her peace, happiness and salvation.
I lift her up with praise on my lips and a longing but thankful joy in my soul. God will honor our faithfulness, our obidience, our trust, and our unyielding faith.

Believe that you can still live in love.
Until my final dying breath.
On my word, before God.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Chapters of Life

Lights flash and promises beckon.
Elation erupts as a new dawn approaches.
We all begin again at the trail head.
Peering down the trail.
Another book begins.
365 pages.

Begin writing.

Floorboards of Change

I have seen the torments rise in front of my eyes, rows of crackling amber flames aligned perfectly in unison for my even charred purification. I peer back down the path and witness a young boy trying to outrun his life, sprint past his own childhood, intrepidly reaching for validation. People ask why I shun love and comfort. Confidants wonder why I know not the ever lasting feeling of happiness. Friends question my inability to receive love for love sake. Tired, exhausted from pain, grief and regret, they depart. Attrition is all it takes to wear down the bonds of their unconditional love. Fibers of cotton, not hardened steel is what I am presented. Inwardly, I know their fortitude is insufficient to support the weight of their lofty convictions. For they have not walked in my boots, know not of the horrors of my travels and the suffering I have endeared both as an innocent child and as a contracted asset. Their resolve quickly lost upon the challenging, the abused, the tormented, the one who bears such potential. Losing interest, capitulating to their own survival and well-being, they scatter and denounce my existence to more perfectly balance their own impotent guilt and bereavement. They always depart when I hold out just long enough for them to recognize that I may never allow myself to feel loved again.

I explain that I recognize only brief interludes of solace, separated by long intermissions of pain.
Casually this is accepted and the once stray dog that show so much promise is now just a memory.
Gather up the leash and chain, transport them in silence, arrive to the shelter, click-the door opens, clack-the door closes. Guilt is suppressed. You drive away and the world will never know of your misdeeds, promises nor the intentions squandered. Fading in the distance, your thoughts will be the only reminders of your past.

Loose hair fibers, scattered from the brief commonality of moments, litter the once pristine floorboard. Everything settles eventually to the floorboard. Change, Promise and Hope. It is all trampled upon, lost to those who don't value its existence and demands. Alas, people cannot see the floorboards as we pass through our days, they know not of where our shoes have taken us, only evidence doesn't masquerade the truth. Regardless of what we show the world, there are always reminders of how far we have ventured off course from what our masking facades would tolerate. Bits of dust, substrate and blood release their imprints.

I reach down to the floorboard and stretch to pick up the change. The metallic coins briefly send a chill through my fingers and a startling jolt through my soul. It is a warm and welcoming reminder from where I once started, and where I am now headed.


"Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas, I need to get myself away from this place. I said yep, what a concept, I could use a little fuel myself and we could all use a little change......"