Indeed
to reach it, the winds of motion, struck with sorrow’s joy; the mechanics,
floating through essence, to retrieve the notions.
There’s magenta, threaded through turquoise, to fall that inner trance. Oh
the barrage, of falling angels, to enter the inner kingdom; for something
lives, the nature of persons, to feed upon the substance. It’s by—for—and
through—this marvelous Being; to rise come daylight, to wrestle come all
lights, to awaken to words. There’s the threat—of closeness, to perish a
thousand births; and there’s the threat of distance, to churn through unspoken
skies; but whom to tell, of such initiations, the constant paddling? We live it
through life, the history of woes, and the presence of testimonies. I couldn’t
retreat, as founded as death, where I sought the carnal will; but Your thoughts are different, even Your Wisdom—the chase
of this life. We perish for traits, to forsaken the inner persons, to curl into
a dungeon; where life is present, a different sort of death, to become what we
seek: this vibrant star, stationed within souls, this changeless love; but oh
the darkness, this variant silence, to communicate through symbols; even to
vibrate, the signs of presence—and we yearn for words; but it’s by—for—and
through—this marvelous Being; to trek the darkness, rounded through essence, to
know Genesis closer. The fruits intoxicate, to render self-knowledge, leading
to the knowledge of God; where retreat is to forsaken self, and closely to
forsaken God; for something was fashioned, this wonderful likeness, the must
for acceptance; else to perish, the lonely walks, to search for footprints. I
give us this: to live it is love, secrecy, and access to this inward chamber.
