( at ZanaDew Falls )
ageless and Always, and so very far beyond The Reach, of even Kings,
where Time ever moves, though as liquid, and a promised Glory sings,
while the Tides, they rise they fall, while simply dancing with The Moon,
but to flow Within, as nowhere else, is upon this mighty, River of Soon . . .
all the words ever spoken in the name of Wisdom or Enlightenment,
have yet to crumble these Walls of Our collective disHarmony,
nor carry Us forth into the embrace of The Reason Why . . .
how complex must the degrees and designs of Evil become,
for humanity to ever understand the simplicity of God’s Intent . . . ?
Our Faith that sustains the very existence of a God,
who denies Us the very substance of Its Presence,
because of Our Faith that so far remains unworthy . . .
the Number of Chances, that remain standing between Our Salvation and Oblivion,
when next We choose, to take, or forsake, The Hand that ever holds, Our Destiny . . .
the Number of Generations that have walked this Earth seeking Forgiveness,
for the deed, done by those, that slew The One, that came here to bestow it . . .
the Number of Mornings, that have ever given up Their Promises to The Sky,
to cast among Us, The Light that was to come, from The Rising of The Son . . .
( and still, We wait )
( so Beautiful )
mine Eyes, have seen The Story, of The Coming, of The Sword,
It shall scythe across the Vineyards, where the Grapes of Wrath are stored,
It shall free from in Our Hearts, these old chains of Our Discord,
and It’s Truth, shall be carried, On . . .
( for The Rest )
We shall All, Get There, eventually,
the First, just hold The Gates open . . .
from Book II, The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Third DoveTale - The Rail of Sighs
( el Niño )
The Child, looked upon The Universe, and wondered, of
The Magnitude of God’s Design, while from The Heart of Paradise
came a Thread, Fine and Silver, and woven, into The Fabric, of His Own . . .
from Book II, The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Pinnacle of Choice
