The Redrum Rat Race

Dull red-grays and blue shades create a facade of dismal dismay all the while a pale flood of limelight cascades down between the fan blades across this empty space. Rusting pipes and cobalt lights contrast the puke stains of a past horror filled, liquid spilled, senses killed fright [day] night. The soundtrack to this hollow city consists of old air-conditioned flats, the hum of poison: children of the oil drum, and the whispered whimper of the paper bag princess and her filtered issues through tissues and down the halls through thin drywall. Sprawled out across the length of an old mattress; the only place I have to lay my head and forget about all that has come to pass. I digress.

The colors begin to fade now; my face and seasons change now. This chalky residue resonates into minds of the obituaries of future times. The television screams at me all about my consumer priority, all the while I just smile knowing that I have left this old dance hall for a better place - the Prince's Ball. Choices made, perseverance laid out this new straight. All I have to do is place one heel in front of toe, repeat, and shuffle. Focus on the ribbon arched ahead high above the reaches of the inner city murder alleys, of which I know all too well.

A hammer comes down. The chamber fires and I explode into forward motion with fervent desire. This rat race has become the greatest race of all time. By His grace alone I will place.

In the Midst of Mayhem

Take a moment to quiet the spirit.

Can you hear that? A new sound of revelation comes down. It resounds in the simple rain [reign] of fingers caressing strings and voices softly singing with the springs; dancing with vibration and mating with each of the tones of praise created. A new passion slowly arising. Could this truly be? The pungent smell of seasons changing - all the signs align, though all I can think of now is how long it has been since I last sang your song, since I last whispered your name.

Yahweh.

For you alone are Holy. [Holy, Holy] You are the only one that satisfies. Only you can quench my inner fire, nourish my dreams, and tend all my desires. If this is not what you want from me, then please speak it clear to me as all too often I am deaf to your calling. I do however, still remember the sound of your voice, just like the one calling in the desert.

I know all my days are blessed by you. Daily I am humbled and constantly renewed. Continue to teach me to obey. I want to seek You in all that I do. Thank you Spirit for the strength to pursue. Praise you Holy one. All praise be to you.