Thanks and praises
DUE THANKS TO THE MOST HIGH FOR HE GIVES ME STRENGTH AND WISDOM.
Thanksgiving, a time for feast, family and fellowship with friends. Thinking back on the days of way back prompted me to pour out a little eye candy for those who aren't here:
Torn from the struggle of savings, good tithing and expressions of love brought me spoils from of the ghetto via angles above. The times of our past made me a much brighter man. Decades between us delivered automatic reverence. Mistaken marriage provided an increased exposure that should have lasted forever. But, expiration dates do not appear on our heads.
Thanksgiving was a time that we all would dread. Like the tears of that clown who dances the jig, I was a victim of lost love from infancy throughout all episodic adventures lived. We lost them time after time; years became months, the countdown till November always ended with a concrete stump. But those were the days, and now we mature.
MARCH ON VICTORIOUS LEADERS, RISE TO HEAVENS GLORY.
The lost loved ones look down and smile at our fears. Weep not victory is theirs, Heroes in heaven surfing on angelic currents of tears. Pause. Catch a moment to inhale, close your eyes. Be silent - exhale. The minds eye allows the inner soul to speak. Shh, be silent and feel the envelope of angels. Softly in the darkness of the Lords love circles the angelic army fluttering below eagles and above the doves.
"Drip."
An angel leaked a bit of moisture off of her cheek. Be calm. These sounds aren't ghostly demons aiming to invade. Open your arms for you shall not be afraid. For the ancestors they guide you with the Lord's wisdom and care. Laughter and smiles of the times we shared are chronologies within the stacks of St. Peter’s lair. So now angels watch over you, to see for themselves...Yet you are to busy. Blessed but stressed, on the go, to worried about tomorrow to stop and think. The Golden Faucets they drink from have no condensation, and fail to leak. But that's a conversation for the saved ones at home. Memories are closely kept for times alone. Yet we waist idle time on a cellular phone. The elders scream out “Learn from your mistakes and ours too.” Become wiser as we pass on, this is what makes up the chosen few. Protect the youth and give as you received. That is the Heavenly golden truth indeed. Lost ones are loved ones that continue to live longer than our desired greed.
en peace.
Thanksgiving, a time for feast, family and fellowship with friends. Thinking back on the days of way back prompted me to pour out a little eye candy for those who aren't here:
Torn from the struggle of savings, good tithing and expressions of love brought me spoils from of the ghetto via angles above. The times of our past made me a much brighter man. Decades between us delivered automatic reverence. Mistaken marriage provided an increased exposure that should have lasted forever. But, expiration dates do not appear on our heads.
Thanksgiving was a time that we all would dread. Like the tears of that clown who dances the jig, I was a victim of lost love from infancy throughout all episodic adventures lived. We lost them time after time; years became months, the countdown till November always ended with a concrete stump. But those were the days, and now we mature.
MARCH ON VICTORIOUS LEADERS, RISE TO HEAVENS GLORY.
The lost loved ones look down and smile at our fears. Weep not victory is theirs, Heroes in heaven surfing on angelic currents of tears. Pause. Catch a moment to inhale, close your eyes. Be silent - exhale. The minds eye allows the inner soul to speak. Shh, be silent and feel the envelope of angels. Softly in the darkness of the Lords love circles the angelic army fluttering below eagles and above the doves.
"Drip."
An angel leaked a bit of moisture off of her cheek. Be calm. These sounds aren't ghostly demons aiming to invade. Open your arms for you shall not be afraid. For the ancestors they guide you with the Lord's wisdom and care. Laughter and smiles of the times we shared are chronologies within the stacks of St. Peter’s lair. So now angels watch over you, to see for themselves...Yet you are to busy. Blessed but stressed, on the go, to worried about tomorrow to stop and think. The Golden Faucets they drink from have no condensation, and fail to leak. But that's a conversation for the saved ones at home. Memories are closely kept for times alone. Yet we waist idle time on a cellular phone. The elders scream out “Learn from your mistakes and ours too.” Become wiser as we pass on, this is what makes up the chosen few. Protect the youth and give as you received. That is the Heavenly golden truth indeed. Lost ones are loved ones that continue to live longer than our desired greed.
en peace.
posted by cr8tv1 at 11/25/2004 02:34:00 PM
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