Forgiven but not forgotten.

What if the very thing we need the most is the one thing we are running from? If we have it backwards, the less comfort we have, the more we value people. The more hatred there is in the world, the stronger we learn to love. The more evil we see... the harder it is to deny it's opposite, a pure and holy God.

I have been forgiven. But by the presence of the Holy Spirit, a refining purpose to my life, He reminds me that I am not forgotten. The Lord has purpose for me yet, I have to believe... he has promised me.

Vision

When a land as blind as my eyes is before me, figures rise from the layer of ash. Flowing over my heart, I empty to it. I am risen with the rest. Light, soft and smooth and warmly falling... touching us in this monochromatic land. Blinking we move to it...

Leaving what's already lost.

~*~

Oh sing me a song of misty mornings, of horses black and white... of violins and fragrant things that melt into the night.

Defining the Defensive

Defensive: Psychology Constantly protecting oneself from criticism, exposure of one's shortcomings, or other real or perceived threats to the ego. (Prepared to withstand or counter aggression or attack.)

The three sectors of Defensiveness: 

Keeping something out: 

Cause: Constantly protecting oneself from criticism

Effect: Prepared to withstand

Keeping something in:

Cause: Fear of exposure of one's shortcomings

Effect: Attack

Reacting to attack:

Cause: Real or perceived threats to the ego

Effect: Counter aggression

Decay

Evicting my own aptitudes, cumbersomely composing fragments of satisfaction.
My thoughts they turn to writing, but the pictures aren't the same.

Afterwords.

After the Epiphany,
all is still. Released
warm and sweet. 

Lingering notions, a
palette of seeds. Absorbing
emotions to grow.

We find it in words,
in colors and verbs...
in confidentiality.

I am a Channel.

I am a Vessel. 

I am everything that does not stand still. 

Repression.

my immortal self is unimposing,
to express emotion, less enclosing.

Letting go is freedom found,
Midnight thoughts in a sleeping gown.

I saw the box that I once knew,
a world, which from the inside grew,
the paper walls it all came through...

Repressed no longer, in this late hour.
Resilient now, a soft fresh power.