I fought for the sinners’ death,
to the cross I found myself bound.
Then I fought for the life of the saint,
and was buried in secular ground.
Those scales both tipped in my favor,
depending on which path I chose,
yet I realized there could be a balance,
so out of those judgments I rose.
I sat with Myself in the silence,
dissolving myself in that space,
by becoming the bridge to the Oneness,
my sight was restored to pure grace.
Now I walk the path of no one,
recreating a new self each day,
dashing down My Own Creations,
whenever they get in My Way.
There was a golden age in which men dreamed themselves to Be…. More.
Yet, in this time, we have dreamed a sinners dream and I have watched us Being… Less.
I hear the jangling discord of our nation.
Where is the beautiful symphony of brotherhood? I Remember Who We Are
and I will not settle here in the mire that we’ve made
knowing Dreams await us All!
Put down your heavy burdens and your loads. Be Not Afraid,
and take up the yoke of This New Thing! March to a New Age as
our Freedom is bound – each to the next!
Be the Love that You Sow and watch as others put on your courage
that we might take up arms and Embrace! Only this will cause the crumbling of worlds
made by smaller men.
Let not the dripping of violence from wicked lips stir bitterness within
for surely Love can hew out of the mountain of hatred a stone of hope
with nothing but the force of the Spirit!
To our salvation let us march onward pressed by the creative suffering of every race
and every Equal Soul that paid a price along the way and
let us join at the table of brotherhood Dreaming Like Kings!
I tried to keep My creation subdued
so it could finish the task I ascribed it
but it arose in great contempt and
leveled itself out in agony leaving Me
no choice but to abandon the endeavor
To stand firm and still
within the perceptions
that others hold of you
maintaining a steadfast
posture in silent strength
in the current of their will
is the surest way to break
yourself free from that
illusion they hold of you
People do not see you as you are
They project onto you visions of themselves
And then they either accept or reject you based on
Their ability to accept or reject those aspects of themselves
Be careful of your judgments, they are sign posts that always point back to you. If you are wise you will learn to read them clearly, and you will know what adjustments your soul is asking you to make. Your strength lies in your perception, which is under the control of your choices, which are made based on your thoughts, which flow right out of your beliefs. If you can get to the heart of your beliefs and challenge them, you will learn the magic of changing your world.
I could see it there in the weave,
each stitch its own little strength,
standing tall and resolute in the row
as people often do, unbeknownst
when the tattering happens, hostility
spilling over and ripping the thread,
threatening the integrity of the Whole,
as the fabric of society suffers the assault.
It is often at this time that the Weaver
comes and carefully pulls at the string,
and all those swirls of color unravel,
revealing that the illusion of a legion
was hiding the reality of just – One.
~ Legion is the lie. We are all God here.
I have felt the sting of rejection
By those who do not see their sin
As they hold the good book as a measure
Counting souls like a treasure to win.
Yet we all fall short of the glory
And it’s this that they fail to see
If they saw themselves as the sinner
What judgment could they pass off to me?
You see I was the sick and the hungry
I was naked with shame and disease
I was lost in the pit of the prison
Yes, I was the least of these.
And I’ve felt the cold heart of wanting
Its love is in word and not deed
For I looked to the warmth of acceptance
But my sin had outweighed my need.
So this warning He gives me is simple
“Love the least of these,
If you fail to do it for them,
Then you’ve fail to do it for Me.”
I have seen a thousand million men
Standing face to face for miles upon miles
Erect like dominoes (unaware of the eminent fall)
All projecting into the other – their thoughts
Passing down in procession from one to the next
Each made accountable as they grow and distort in stature
A thousand million men – all created by the thoughts of others
And none remembering themselves – Save One
He stands off to the side, facing outward and away
Looking upon the deep nothingness of his clear mind
He does not notice the stones that come hurling – often
With heavy intent and burdensome nonsensical “truths”
They vanish into his void becoming as he Is – Empty
And it is only from within this space that he can truly Create
Something Beautiful….. Himself!