Father,

Talk to me, . . .

"I am holy,

I love my children,

You are mine,"

I lay here

I see upward

To familiar ceiling,

I see my chandelier,

Still as frozen ice

Not a one,

Of its crystalline

Suspended pendulums,

Move

Though the yonder

Mountains shake,

And wars,

And seas roar

While volcanoes bellow,

Angry fire

No,

not the tiniest,

Quiver,

Of this chandelier

And yet,

This earth upon which,

Our solid floors

Of unseen depths,

Sustain our every move,

We swarm

We move,

While imperceptably,

At an eternal,

24,000 mile per hour

We on earth spin,

Like a top,

A perpetual motion,

By unseen energy,

It spins our planet,

As we ride

As we hurl around

Said bright star,

Its notice only,

While it burns on us,

When at times we suffer . . .

. . .

Immense movements,

Even while spinning,

In fair straight forward orbit

Like as you spinning

While walking to market

Or destiny of choice,

Together we travel

around,

Our Alpha Centaurous,

Named Star, . . .

. . . But still,

My chandelier,

Its pendulum

Body,

Does not, . . .

Even in the slightest, . . .

Even in the tiniest,

It does not

Move, . . .

. . .

"Be still,

And know that,

I am God." . . .

My Father says

the turquoise pastel paint,

moves,

as seen on a flat plane

it changes constantly

to the 3 dimensional,

great depth

deep aqua blue,

cream white blue,

green algae shades,

infinite hue

in transformations

moving,

rolling,

swirling,

in this fantastic sea

i can only wish

i see

but cannot touch

i cannot but smell

only in my memory

and imagination,

stuck in 2 D

cruel,

like a wheel chair,

bound,

like a former athlete

this sun glistens,

though i can't see

it

it is too bright

but it brings

its light makes

the view to come alive,

from a picture still,

to what appears real

the movement,

of my own atoms,

become one with it

the colors are immense,

bright,

unreal,

picking me up

from a world of

black and white

here comes the sun

again,

a nova bright,

burst,

in a baby blue sky

i can see,

but cannot touch

. . . even in the travel

of my mental voyage,

my imaginative

wanderings . . .

make me disappointed,

because that brief,

non lasting relief

now seems,

to be as in only,

as in,

moving colors,

in the animated pixel

formed faces

of fellow humans,

in the floral

and fauna environ,

of this world

become virtual aquarium,

of being,

but only on,

this t.v. screen,

i am only,

a comfortable,

mind voyager,

an outside observer . . .

. . . i am down today

i don't know why,

but the brightness of

the colors,

fill my eyes with light

and

i am encouraged,

though but briefly . . .

. . . down today,

no mystery,

because my inner man,

relates to the reason,

. . . innate,

in the subconscious effects

that give me reason,

of accumulated stimuli,

of knowledge,

. . . by real

and vicarious means

the,

bad news

its perennial

feed,

. . . the daily infusions,

of such,

of daily poison words,

emanating from,

bad people

bad sprits,

bad fallen world,

yours and mine

my own flesh grows

ever increasingly,

. . . deteriorating,

aches and pains,

ever increasing,

to an end,

knowledge,

of the end,

final breath,

unconsciousness,

like anesthesia

. . . such weakness,

such futility,

money means nothing

same ol' same ol',

y'know,

i cannot reach

i cannot touch

with my skin

nothing new under the sun,

inventions are fine,

but lose their pizazz,

after a short while,

new

but not new,

under the same sun

the world is immeasurably

huge

infinite places and mystery

but unexplorable

in fullness

ours

but caged,

out of reach

yes,

i feel down,

but

don't

know fully

why

i can take a short,

fast pill,

fill my mind with high

and mighty words

but just

doesn't seem to last

. . . i see . . .

and feel,

upcoming,

increasing calamity, . . .

i would feel better,

if i could throw physical blows at it,

but,

it is futile,

it is undefeatable,

i am mere,

carbon based,

flesh and blood

a trillion things

could take me out

the author of calamity

knows no rules

but lawlessness,

knows no bounds,

no restraints,

no mercy

O Lord God take him out,

get me a ticket outta here,

get me out of my misery

is there a doctor in the house?

I crawled into the skull

with my physical intellect,

led by my spirit

into that skull,

of just one ant

you know,

the insect,

amongst many of its species,

. . . just one of incalculable

numbers of ants,

of trillions upon trillions,

ad infinitum,

of those living on planet earth

therein,

just in one

i found a

membrane

below an encasing

outer shell,

the exoskeleton,

and within

all of this,

divine intricacy,

this exponentially complex

sample of design,

i saw,

blood vessels

surrounding all components of

this ant,

this just one ant,

and each ant that has ever lived

to present and past

throughout the entire

earth

and to the future

all operating

functioning

like a computer's program

yet eternal

from the time of creation

to the present

utterly mechanisms

maintaining

sustaining just this one ant

and all living organisms

i perceived this just one

ant's

brain,

blood vessels coursing through it

and blood flowing through each

capillary

yes,

all its organs . . .

. . . and then,

i pondered,

the ant's thoughts

and its decision making

prowess . . .

what are its thoughts?

i am certain of its personhood

for it is a living entity

i know it is capable of fear

its reactions to stimuli

its inventive ability,

as i have observed since childhood

and my inquisitive intrusions

upon its world,

upon its fellow ants,

and their course of activity

. . . and yes again,

i am aware of its beating heart,

praise to the electron microscope

and its inventors

yet no man can resuscitate

its heart much long

after its final beating moments

i am aware of this one ant's frame,

it's structure,

i am studied in its being,

comprised of the elements,

like the carbon,

listed on the periodic table;

of its atoms harnessed by

electrons,

quarks

lepiquarks and the like . . .

and beyond the tiniest,

of the physical,

as in,

strange matter . . .

. . . into the portal beyond,

into the realm of spirit

all held together,

by creation

yes,

this just one,

ant . . .

for it possesses

life

life the inexplicable . . .

life from a creator

his name is Jesus

who is Life himself,

son of God

who created all things,

as in the book of

Colossians

. . . swarms of ants,

swarms of insects,

myriad animals,

on the land

in the sea,

visible

and invisible

surrounding our own,

human,

physical

and spiritual

being

there's a greyish darkness

outside my shutters

like the fabric

of wool

filtering

the residual

light

subtly

of what's left

to another dying day

if it weren't for

the criminals

in the black house,

(some call it the red house),

it wouldn't be so

. . .

i look at the leaves

by this grey

cold hearted light,

to that

of yonder

fading image

of sir oak tree.

who i know

only by familiarity

of his friendship

he is stately

having more righteousness

in even one of his leaves

than the entire

side of unrighteous

godless,

so called leaders

across

the globe

for they are like black holes

the collective lot of them

UN

wef

the who,

(definitely not the band)

because they emit no light

they suck it in,

causing

death by war and disease

by greed

and anti God stratagems

to what's what's left

to another dying day

i recognize him,

mr. oak,

by his sad limbs

and opaque leaves

now blackish

which beg,

robbed,

of the residual

fading light

beyond this,

past my concepts

of political quasi

spiritual perceptions

my mind of sight

takes me

to edge of this infinity,

portions portal

of space

back to my other friend by day,

beyond the oak's form

there, . . .

a floating former

meadow,

once green by memory's eye,

now dried,

a dirty yellow,

like the wicked in government

some,

who despise the people,

there,

over there,

on what i know

to be ground

is a grey yellow,

like dirty straw,

yes,

dried grass

once green,

as if it once fed a horse,

young and vibrant

now,

a pale one

this ground,

now dull

in this fading light

of another dying day

silhouetted

by

the grim

remaining photons

of swallowed light

gulped

by the greedy

globalist

illuminati types

. . . into this seeming void

i too float

carried by my weary

mind,

flesh so weak,

mind once so strong,

now laid to rest,

shackled by the darkening

scene,

set before my sight,

made dim

by the fading light,

to dark

. . . with my memorized eyes,

just a thousand yesterdays ago,

like a calm before,

a coming storm,

like the shaking,

that is just around the bend,

coming like a freight train,

as sure as the rising

of another bright sun rise,

like another judgement day,'

like another parting of the red sea,

like the tranquil stillness

just before the threshold of

that coming storm . . .

like just before

the closing of Noah's ark

door . . .

i gaze deep,

into the invisible realm,

that speaks to me

of a coming shaking

that now is

intensifying,

and fury plummet

in violent force,

disrupt this scene

i know,

will turn to black,

i will not leave you destitute

nor leave you blind

in travail

void of hope

peer into the darkness

await the light

come my people

he,

the LORD,

says,

come into my chambers

"til the upheaval be overpast

in my presence find your comfort

and see the coming light

return

in utter glory

the things you see now

though dark,

will be bathed

in light,

and truth

and you will fear

no more

Song and voice

Swirl around my

Yesterday head

There,

with hands

Of clean heart,

Sweet fingers

Fingers of Yesterday,

Move and handle

Things,

Like the gentle skin,

Of a gentle,

Baby

Come back air,

Come back song,

Blue sky,

White clouds,

Summer sun,

Sun,

Shine on me again

Take me back,

To a holy siren song

To a desolate loneliness

Please,

A harpsichord,

Plays,

Outside myself,

Above me

I see,

Tears drip

On my freckled,

Suntanned country,

Fresh face of utter,

Innocence

And I,

No,

I am not,

Alone, I am not

I Am here

Raise the dead

And be it gone,

Kick in the face

That of what is,

Evil

That is

Of what is the greed,

The murder,

The followers

Of death

Yeah!

Stay afar,

I mention not

Your name

Those that ruin

All that is good

Take me back,

There

To yellow stalks of wheat

Meadow larks

And grey clay loam soil

Twilight nights

Shining full moons

Dew on the land

Coyote wails

I wish and pray

Now I am,

On the forgotten land

Where i once stood

Time sped

Leaving me behind

Hurled and ruthlessly threw me

Down

Cruelly hurt me

Now

The former

Is choked,

Overrun,

By the bad deeds

Of heartless

Thoughtlessness,

By the noise . . .

Trampled,

By the shallow

Of rushing beings,

Captivated

By cell phones,

Images

Constantly flowing,

Flitting

Crushing,

The past

Nostalgia murdered,

By the shallow,

The rush,

The warning signposts

Of yesterday ignored

A slow death

Enveloped

By the deceit

Of that "we will never

Die"

Til it comes

For the thought,

Of the present

Is,

Tomorrow will not

Ever come

'Til,

For those that

Seek the tik

And tok

And the platforms of

The Apps

The world of flickering lights

The ubiquitous

Media

Transfixed

Glued

Take a breath?

Break away?

No,

Perhaps

To wake

To what?

Not until

The electricity

The components

Of the virtual

Are cut off

Song and voice

Swirl around my

Yesterday head

There,

with hands

Of clean heart,

Sweet fingers

Fingers of Yesterday,

Move and handle

Things,

Like the gentle skin,

Of a gentle,

Baby

Come back air,

Come back song,

Blue sky,

White clouds,

Summer sun

A melody hurts me

My loved precious one has

Died

No living walking

Dead,

Wicked one,

Can

Or ever will,

Nor should,

Breathe

The air he could

Have better well,

Been,

Deserved

to have

Breathed

In his or any other

Innocent's

Stead

Now,

I am on a wild mountain

Far away

From you,

I remember you

Like yesterday

I haver not forgotten

You

My love,

Nor ever will

I

For,

Life is fleeting

More than

Grains of granite

Sunlit here,

I crunched upon them

With my boots,

You are gone

You cannot follow them

Nor walk upon them

Like you used to

You cannot walk behind them

You are forever gone

Your atoms

Lost

In the subatomic milleu

My only hope is to

Believe in hope itself

Your ghost spirit follows me

Softly,

In the air surrounding

Gently caressing

A hope

To hope,

to see,

You again

Is a memory

A brain cell?

No

I know so

My brain connects

With spirit reality

Only it

can lead

Me

to you

The pain of loss

Is real

today i fainted,

inside my

worn torn heart,

overwhelmed,

i was,

with the effects,

of the unseen,

so,

so, so hidden,

by the wickedness

that hides,

done,

by them,

the children

of the bad

what things?

why, . . .

don't

you see?

. . . of course you don't

and i do not fault you

the great majority

sleep

myriad roads,

lead,

to many deceptions,

like,

good is bad

and evil good

the line of goodness,

it is drawn,

see it,

across the sand of

what is written

in all hearts,

choose it

the crooked course

is torched by lies,

flaming misdeeds,

thefts,

deaths,

things unjust,

that pain,

induced by,

the walking dead,

is the bad

today i fainted,

inside my worn,

torn heart,

i crawled inside myself,

my hidden,

my spirit,

my defenseless

heart,

i called out,

i cried to him,

the Lord

of Lords,

. . . he hears everything

i heard him,

he answered,

no audibleness,

but yes,

. . . impressions,

of his words,

yet sweet,

kind and strong,

given inside my bleeding,

worn,

war torn heart,

to,

"stay the course,

wait, . . .

not long now,

and see,

what good

things I do"

jagged sky

meets,

cringes at its line,

with jagged

ragged tree tops

in the black green

distance,

topping myriad

lines

of oncoming,

outgoing lines

of chrome

its dirty

light reflecting

cars of steel and glass

all going where

nowhere?

busy busy

busy,

all busy

nowhere

where?

today

yesterday

over and over

again

jagged lines

burning time

repeat

repeat

the repetition

arrogant fools

hidden in enclaves

some above

some below ground

getting ready

for their next plandemic

their next false flag

next invasion

like the southern border

led by the pied piper

//. . .pleased to meet you

hope you know my name . . .//

who can wake them up,

they're arrogant

ad nauseum to my spiritual senses

for in their wickedness

they plot

and plan

in hidden chambers

they laugh

in their pride

deluded

by dark forces

rather than

open ears

to The LORD

God almighty

yes,

we are dust

dust mixed with fabulous ingredients,

chemicals

elements

minerals

Consciousness

human life

God breathed

No,

Not risen from some

lame mindless theory

primordial soup

struck by lightening

like the moon is made of cheese

pseudo

master of deception

demonic

inspired

big Lie,

like as in the theory

of evolution

i laugh with distain

mixed with

emulsified with the ideas

borne of satan's philosophy

swallowed by masses

we are dust

endowed with God breathed

Life,

But,

these in power

who cheapen our lives

with their train derailments,

cargo ships stuck at sea

colliding with bridges,

with their plandemics

upcoming,

tainted food

water,

cloud seeding chemtrails

upcoming more

lasers,

the likes of maui

infesting politics

pretending american principles

their fruits speak

for themselves

they'll use emps

now

or try even deadlier means

so wicked, . . .

in tandem

with rouge nations

stealing our taxes

to destroy our livelihoods

in our so called white house?

Red House

working for . .

the enemy is within

. . . wake up woke, . .

no care for their fellow

man,

for children . . . innocent,

spirits inhabit

cohabit the sold souls

of the enemy

is within

wake up woke,

forget elections

stolen,

don't trust in elections

to save us

in God we Trust

wake up to The LORD

who breathed Life into dust

and ask the Lion

of Judah's Tribe

to arise

to inhabit earth

vanquish the foe

sanctify America

bring Justice

and Vengeance

lay back

lay back and love

let the wind blow

coupled with its breeze

set your mind at ease

though it turn

to hurricane

though the earth shake,

and bad boogies,

so called men,

steal real men's

hearts

and dead men's bones,

and children too,

though they cause,

their own

quaking,

to rattle those,

who just want

to lay down, . . .

. . . in the end,

they will

go down,

way,

way, . . .

all the way down.

. . . stay in the pocket,

pray away,

death by tornado,

hailstone and fire, . . .

for the innocent,

the child,

the elderly,

the foolish,

and naïve,

lay back

lay back and love

lay back,

'cause the Lord,

the master of

all,

of nature's forces,

who obey him

will shelter you, . . .

peace be still,

lay back

lay back and love,

'cause those,

that cause,

havoc

in the streets

and yell,

demanding

what is not theirs,

twisting the arm

of what is law

what is right,

throwing tantrums

defiant, . . .

spreading violence,

. . .lay back

lay back and love

'cause the Lord,

the master of all things,

king of creation,

will lay us down

when it all goes down