HOW we fear the judgment
upon death so near
The fear of sin
weighed against
eternal life
But through death
arrested is sin
for the dead
cannot sin!
:: 01-29-2014 ::
HOW we fear the judgment
upon death so near
The fear of sin
weighed against
eternal life
But through death
arrested is sin
for the dead
cannot sin!
:: 01-29-2014 ::
WHEN he says “I love you”
do you feel an angel’s breath
upon your feathered heart?
And when you walk hand-in-hand
do your feet glide upon heaven’s land
like when you dance in golden light?
I cannot partake in a poisoned arrow
that which I broke off from my heart
time has passed since we said goodbye
I used to say my soul was salvation
we use to play and sing in elation
those were times I keep inside of me
If he loves you like I loved you
I could not think of you as I do
Upon my hands I would fall to Earth
And the angels sing
a pardon for the heart
I can only say
my soul was my salvation
and we used to play
and sing in elation
And the angels sing
a pardon for our hearts
and the Earth takes a spin
just for us
and we can dance again
eternally at heaven’s gate
:: 01-29-2014 ::
And if you heard
the angelic sound
— a musical lyric
in variation — eternal
What words to choose
a mumbling fool may say
— what tears to shed
mostly joyous — though
none I dare to share
Clearly unprepared
is the human mind
and heart to grasp
such grandeur
as God’s beauty
— love and let love
in Peace & Harmony
:::::
A STOLEN moment
from god tears my
soul asunder
Reveling folly between
the epic battles
we cherish
Love, pain,
death and birth
that colors humanity
The fire
and destruction
shape our destiny
Flesh and blood
the currency of
this world
An unseen audience
watches from the
hidden dimensions…
We are
the grand theater
for all angelic creatures!
They marvel at our
strength to struggle
in bodily form
The isolation is
unbearable and manifests
in disease
We, the true Kings
and Queens
teach the heavens…
We teach what is compassion
and true evil
in broad strokes
And save the God-head
from Eternal oblivion
::::
MANY times more than twice have I seen
the ghosts of family, friends and then…
some whose faces that I did not know
Quaintly, with ethereal elegance they are
silky touch, feather breath, and opal eye
Outside of the tick-tock of father time
It is most inappropriate to ask of them
to state their business or intended pleasure
extend your politeness over scorn I say
//–//