One day—the music blaring, everything is symbolic. You know for imposition. With the oath in place, I wonder why paranoia is so vital. In life, souls meet and dislike each other. it’s one of those observations.
More those vibrations. Each soul, it’s been heavy, I never mention much. Private warfare. I keep a hand to God. On borrowed time. Pavement prayers.
I do get it. I see us. It may be community, indeed, but something feels like its yearning, part incomplete, defensive, so what!
Many, the whole lot, same situation.
I watched one, the whole life … disputing her existence.
I say, we flood seas, we hit blocks, we focus on youth—proud to give little souls knowledge—pavement prayers, concrete orison … and God was giggling, just watching, blessing all involved.
The biggest fear is reincarnation—at this same motion, under this same telescope.
I’m opting out. And I can hear Father. It’s not up to me.
Give it to God.
Deal with his children by his will.
