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discord in prayer (fucking reveal yourself!!)

She once said “you’d know how I feel if you’d pay attention.” That’s back when Texas was the entire world. Hard to know now how those endless western skies have closed themselves, like we close ourselves.

I wanna scream into that veil tied so tightly around you I want to beg you to reveal so that I can focus, but you are swirling in that basin, parabolic, and my wants and pleas are returned to me..burning my eyes..the windows to me clouded over solid grey

This is the natural pain and the natural talk, and I’d do better to know how you watch. Hidden away, breaking my heart.

I’m watching my words.. careful.. Watch my hands.. straying still tied to your rebellion..

Everything has conditions …what I need to understand is how the conditions are unconditional.. There has to be more in a man than a promise of a first breath fulfilled with last gasp.. a broken promise of love and its ability to self preserve, killing the grass and the spinach and the chard and the everything we decided to be, everything we would do no matter what… vacuumed into dissension …nuclear stars dense we are…

It is never truly promised is it… and I might be that cruel… ( you can not have me hate me now.. You can not).. hide forever so i’m confused and my heart is stretched and I can’t love enough, cause I can feel you coming.. felt your release I’m tied to the discordant…

“Watch my words, my hands, and God, please help the man. The bricks with which you built him have started to crack, and separate like the dust and straw of his origin.. it is now..Lord. Please just let it be now”….

I wanna go home. I want that ocean view and that smothering summer, I want the father to be me.. like You. Loving like You and you.. loving…

Life feels like pieces.. Smashed and scattered, diagnose this condition. Forgive me.. Your promise is unconditional… my belief that I can sway Your heart to fail is a condition that I created, I am not unique in that… the only one I can effect is me..

Encouragement

I was never good with a lariat.. Nobody really is..actually that’s a lie, millions of people are good with the lariat, and if they can, I could.. if..

if….the sky could break open and spread itself out again then I know we can… no one hates the sky after the rain and no one hates the rain after the sun and who avoids the sun after a burn… well… I hear those southern chuckles and I hear that tone, because the sun and rain have never failed you and I have.. still I never stopped loving anyone...

I can feel you saying again that with that chin leveled at my nose, come home.. I’m not too stubborn. I don’t want to only imagine you talking to me for the rest of my life.. What salve is that simple word from your lips.. what greater creator, than your lips.. those breaking the door down, breaking the seashell kisses….

Pieces

The covenants that we are born into arrived in pieces. The natural order of the world changed over time piece by piece and as men we develop one piece at a time. Our actions becoming our habits becoming our pastimes, our personality, and then character. Pieces becoming singular.. We focus on the catastrophic hurricane and ignore the bee as it pollenates.. Pieces… the piece that destroyed your heart’s healing is still an attachment and I’m squeezing your hand.. please just hear this.

The piece that holds it all together.. isn’t singular after all.. That is not a declaration.. I won’t be making those anymore..

Grace is undeserved. It requires no other words to define it .. the swan of your mouth reaching inside my mind requires no label. .. I hear you.. and I’ll go. I will go, with You at my back and you in my heart. I will go. I am going home.

Art credit : top painting : Gaetano Esposito. Woman Praying, 1887; middle painting : Abraham Janssen (ca.1575–1632) Ecce Homo (1615–17, detail)