When you open your arms to embrace my tattered spirit,
tornadoes are cast across the barren planes of my fear.
From the heavens you checker the landscapes’ crops readied to harvest,
from the heavens you see where clouds end as I search in unrest.
Rivers and valleys cant escape the shadows set by a sunrise.
They squirm and twist as if in agony, dried or full each seek a disguise.
Cities nest without networks of road leading lost home.
Lost to words my spirit attempts to groan.
Doubt disregards even the greatest of prompting.
But the trumpet will sound to summon my mouth.
though in a cabin in flight all this disappears as a window is closed
and a fiction of reality is opened by a Cancun transiteer’s mindset; disposed.
Here’s to Revelation, has it ever been so attractive!
Dreams and visions cast on an island
Seven churches and the coming of a King!
Oh to know the strength of the Lord!
If I, a mere slave can ponder these views
of a world at 38000 feet above, amongst angelic pews!
traversing great cloud scapes my eyes squint to find God’s meaning
in his Words that when casted returns gleaming.
and yet how can a food tray of spirit go back to cart half emptied.
When served from the tablets of grace the Word stands, reborn a sentry.
It is not even about coming to terms with a being who ends and begins,
it is solely coming to kneel before Him as four hold back the fourth coming winds.
A vision so real, set on scroll in empty tomb. God’s seal is living to save the lost from doom.
I see you clearly your blessings outnumber the sand seen from the skies.
Tribulation will come. Scrolls will be read and the martyred will Rise.
I am armed and ready Lord, Palm Branch in Hand,
Clothe me in White with the Blood of your Lamb!