Seas with a depth eternally vast, only to be discovered by few. Innocence returned. Eyes of blue waters sourced in the fountain. Surface stability is what remains amongst a wilderness of towers with confounded speech bound in chains of their own confusion. Many layers to be peeled, but only a little pain will most accept. Taken by desolation, rebellion they succumb, some open, many with derision and ignorant sight taken in by the flame that draws the fly. Gleaning light from the distance of the midst, pierces through many of occasion, only for them to fold and hide. They cry Devil, they cry deception, only blinded by what the Light has pierced. No ears to hear, nothing recompensed. The path of Light, the journey of Love, a Savior conformed to that which comes from within, transforming the light into their own made in the image of their shadow. The Spirit is my guide or so they say, but splintering is the effect seen behind this Veil. Thorns and thistles show themselves, but blinded by the shell they see a mirage. The ship is calling, but they stay their pits, calling for heads, prayers of malice cloaked in three shades of gems. A prayer of tempting The One, to place a bushel upon his forehead, directing to wandering stars once drained before. Barriers surround betwixt the baby and it's lifeline. Need for bread they seek, given cakes of air they feast. An outstretched candlestick crafted in Love, purged of what is dead I've become, to reach forth and pull the mule from it's trap, by bands of Light gained by Grace alone, open handed and nobody to grasp. The Light shines atop the Seven eyes, to show the path back to the first love, but greater resistance is met by those in need of shade. Manifest as if turned from the inside out...exposed. The thorn in my side, keeps me humble, Keeps me seeking, wisdom seen as three needed the cure. Mixtures of confusion remain. I seek not to reclaim nor reform. I speak not of my own, but of he who sent me, Lamb of Life, the Word of Love, expression of Fathers Grace. Witness bears in the rooms of my being of what Mercy conceived. Consuming fire throughout my bowels, lit by His hand. Wisdom, Love, and Purity to be one. He shakes the mountains and comes in glory, the fervent heat, breaking this firmament, he reveals his Glory from eternity to eternity. Nothing ends with the One. And everything begins with the Son. The Same power, Resurrected Messiah, resides in those who bear the seed, nothing dividing, who reflect the marks of Fathers promise. Blood stained Ghost, taste of wine, unleavened manna he bought me and forever I reign. The Son and Father are one, just as the son and Father have become as I've walked through His door of invite. Translation of Spirit, that nobody will see, unless they come as a child seeking that which is He.