So few know the truth I seek
The truth so few know to speak
It angers me that so many sleep…
“Rock- a- bye baby” and “my soul to keep”
And so I quietly watch them all
“When the bough breaks, the cradle shall fall”
The bough is nearing the time to break
And all shall inevitably wake
To sordid dreams or surreal realities
The cradle is not all it seems
But wake you must
This I trust
“For if I die before I wake”
Is that not the saddest state?
Shake the world as I shake the trees
And fruits fall all around me
But that is just a dream is it not?
Alas the truth bares the plot…
I walk a lonely, forsaken road
Filled with the beauty and wonder bestowed
Upon my mind with ancient whisperings
“Wake sweet one”
“No time for lingering.”
There are few in this site (or anywhere else for that matter) capable of grasping these words unto their essence. Less than eight years before calendars end. Thought of a rock group know by a name bearing resemblance to what was written here (probably for entirely different reasons), but to each curse there is a blessing and vice versa. Bitter times await before the bow breaks. And the heavens will fall. I've always wondered why this particular place you chose to observe. Or perhaps it is merely an accident of life, as life is an accident in space and time. Take care,
It unites spiritual wisdom from the East and West to help readers experience Christ consciousness in the here and now. Combining the Oneness teachings of India with a fresh look at the New Testament.
Rage
Blessings,
Libby
Taylor
Allen