Thursday, 1 January 2015

He who fed the birds


(Over the plains where I dwell I see the fireworks of the Almighty as He replies to those of man of yesternight yet the birds have taken rest, they know Him and His voice)

The greater noise of Him is my music, my song.
Oh blessed is the Name I call upon.

The greater light He casts is my light
as it vibrates on the paths of the night.

I feel the trembling under my bare feet,
my soul is rising as I meet
each sight, each sound.

Electrified skies as His power runs,
cutting that of man to none.

I breathe the pure air washed by Heaven’s tears,
knowing all yesternight’s fears.


(A crumb in the pocket of he who fed the birds was on my hand today
And that moment, this mighty music began to play
and as I wrote this sound, I found...)

Papa, I miss you. Do you hear my music?


(Prelude from "God's Fire")

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