After two prose pieces, I must reexamine my motivations behind creating this. What is this? It is but a dartboard for my mind, throwing projectiles in thought from an ever-changing quiver.
Will I seek truth in all of its depth?
When all is seen dimly & I'm out of breath.
What is my trajectory?
Have I an inkling?
My thoughts are a factory
Even in sleep hardly ceasing.
But what will I do with the products I create?
They are sometimes amusing, but their utility is innate.
Puzzling through the eyes of a renewed vigor -
What a wondrous life, as my responsibilities sprout bigger.
No, I can not pause to reflect - the deadlines are creeping.
Yet I hang on the this idea that things are not as they seem.
What is the larger picture? I don't have all time.
Just what is bestowed, and the skills I cultivate through rhyme.
Why this fascination? Shall I ever behold.
A city built by divine hands?
With avenues more precious than gold.
Oh it will be beyond imagining.
Vanity like chasing the storm.
Power is elusive, and is not long worn.
Time will claim us all, no matter how fast we run.
I will not fight the end, where I shall meet and embrace the Son.
Oh my brother, how clever you are.
Hiding in plain sight, and thine works show you not afar.
Thank you for these moments, their brevity makes them prized.
I hold fast to Your hope, trailing in Your strides.
Yes, this shall not last very long.
But my day will not be wasted.
Your mysteries intrigue me to plunge headlong.
Never leave me, please forbear my moods.
I am yet learning, patience and the art of not being rude.
I am oblivious until I am not.
Tenacious to what I hold, it is everything for which I've fought.
Death is not as fearful with the promise of you.
I regret only those I love and leave behind.
But await when I shall see them in bodies renewed.
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