Meditation 1

Catastrophe befalls a man of unclean lips. His words are like poison; seeping into the bone and marrow of his soul. How much more do I, a man of unclean lips, need Your Sovereignty? What words shall I utter, or what phrase shall I say? In that solemn retreat, shall I find comfort, or only grief? Shall happiness elude my grasp in my perpetual pursuit of the truth? Shall a burden of marriage hinder the bliss of such; so long, so long I wait! Restore to me the shattered opal– reverse the inconceivable! Hasten, come, bring forth the victory of much, and not some. Shine the incandescent lights upon the innermost of my being, and tread upon the serpent in joyous occasion!

Brilliant epochs of certitude,
dreams of reality.
Blessings of solitude,
visions of sanctity.
O, to pen my thoughts in such sacred submission, a thrill not so trifle
honest intentions

The music of my soul!
What glory to know!
Your music reverberates in the echoes of my soul;

At once awakening the precious hope I have in you. Hope, but a word of often mistaken tenure, is my solace, my strength. In such brilliant hope do I stand; in such brilliant hope do I pray.

Such beauty unwound, I can only imagine. But whose can fathom? The perceptual ability of man is but a minuscule fragment upon the Great Eternity. What shall we say about the capabilities of mortal man? Mortal, that haunting word of ambiguous flare; as if the immortality of man is simply an idea to be shared. Such a glorious immortality… set so resolutely and so discernibly upon the hearts of man. What then shall be said of the mind; or what shall we say of the mind and its consecration to the Great Intellect of spiritual resolve? After these, much can be said of such grandiose subjects of mortality and the Nature of the intellect. Particularly, the consecration of the intellect to the absolute assuredness of the Almighty; the Almighty is that Great Form that Plato may have only dreamed of. Perhaps, this consecration may be described most adequately as a transformation, and the transformation is disregarded in human effort. But this transformation conforms itself to highest truth: the truth. Such a notable transformation is not the result of worldly systems, nor vain pursuit. It does not claim to be possessor of all truth, rather that such universality of truth is centered around one Person: God. The existence of God is at once a most heartfelt reality, but often an intellectually resisted fact.

Furthermore, an intellect unappointed (or deniably so) is in immediate disagreement to the existence of such Great Intellect. This unappointed intellect will seek to remotely compare itself to the Great Intellect, but will fall short in typical hostility. O, such glory to know that great minds are not restricted in the Presence of a Mighty God! To know freedom is granted more abundantly than the worldly system that seeks to entrap such gifted minds! How often have you sought to destroy our generational brilliance, you, oh you most failed and flawed daemon of deceptive wisdom? Is it to you that I serve such wandering? Is it for your sake that I drift amongst the ruined city of depravity?

For my wandering, what purpose does it serve?
I desire that fervor;
That eternal flame that cannot be quenched,

Unless I behold your Glory!
But what then, most Holy of Holies?
Will my spirit be quenched in seeing the passing of heavenly forms?
Alas, no, even as the cold make lesser the warm,

I must lodge with you in Paradise;
high into the Heavens as eagles soar
There, ah yes, there my spirit will be quenched evermore

So I devote my mind to seeking both wisdom and folly,
Studying the depth of your Nature, in spirit, not carnally

For the day shall come to serve as Your acolyte in Paradise,


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