Loudness N silence

I will say this....silence is the greatest counterfeiter, and loudness a scream often not heard ! So I asked silence to make a defense...but sounds overpowered ! Be free in all the things, reconcile for the unspoken, interpret the loud cries in your path.

Raphael G

what dulls the senses ?

                                         what dulls the senses ?     

Until death do us apart, or until insanity and grief carves a better outlet,

I want no part of neither one, I'm not a masochistic or on a joy ride for proving grounds.

I'm bless to to know I can decipher my conscience, and since I'm material and imperfect I carry out my sentence, cautiously  and under reason.

I slave for what is good and righteous...a resistor to broken will. There is no markers pointing to either directions. If my faith is challenged my Divine being shall cover for my weaknesses.

Yet I have not failed in my quest to understanding. My sacrifice is to my beloved...but God first, this much I know !

My Lord is very close at hand all the time as the enemy extends his madness...but I'm aware on his countless attempts. The Almighty Divine always at the scene...if God on my side whom against me ?

The superlative call is to the braves, those whom yearn and sigh, mourn the greater revelation. It is to them the ancient of ancient...eternal of old, that keeps the consuming fire alive rosie hot. If one stays the course of the conscience, your days will have no end.

Freewill or the challenge, what dulls the senses ?

Extremism, fanaticism, over-zealous..applying a perfect law to a imperfect body, blindly.

Carrying out the mandates to the point of exhaustion. I have reasons to amend a broken rhythm (my limited scope on what is superlative).

My contention, it takes a great plot to balance out the fine prints. In my insensible chase...the senses have yielded a fine tune conscience, that is the product to work with. I beg forgiveness by stretching the boundaries in my contemptible state...I await the superlative expression that which is bestow to my conscience !

06/14/17

Rafael G Gonzalez

Apostle Paul or me ?

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 is a passage where Paul has some profound things to say about the theme of strength in weakness. And I want us to begin by reading this passage.

 

(Paul the Apostle)

"to keep me from being too elated by the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong".  

 

 

(me, a vessel)

If I’m weak in the flesh and yet chosen, ordain to do the powerful work’s of the spirit, then the spirit bears my weakness in the flesh. And if the spirit contends with my weakness I have become powerful. If the spirit actuates my life force, then I have overcome my greatest adversary. For it has become my strong-hold, in my contemptible state.

So being weak in the flesh, and contemptible...the spirit takes pleasure that I have fought a great battle in my extremities. Left for dead...died many times, yet powerful to on-looker’s, humble in understanding.

Internalized by my conflict, and much aware of how its utilized, weaponized against me, here again is my helper. The power over the spirit working it’s ancient secret formula. The flesh and weakness have become silent in their activities as the faith bears all, supports it all...that we have overcome and never left behind.

So what is asked of us ? We don’t indulge in the flesh or weakness, yet their ever present ! Does the helper take pleasure in our lowest point ? See for yourself, if He adopted us in our lowest point, certainly his goal would be to make us greater in our highest ! Men/Woman of little faith, how many times can a heart break, and how many times can it mend ? If He can see through all our short-unsightliness, why can’t we ?

Raphael G

A true Rose (Gem)

                                      a true rose (Gem)

I shall live among the forest trees, and in the forest might's.
I shall live among the desert's cold, and the desert's heat.

I will reside in open plains or in close range, in majestic gardens, or in furnished mountains,
I will stand my grounds and humbly display my strength.
In red, pink, white, and in thorns I'm arrayed to me nothing goes unnoticed, and why not? blossom away.
Fear not my thorns for every thing gentle also carries great might, and my creator is an example of that.
My greatest reward comes when given to someone who waters me and understands how hard it is,when not loved.
The seasons come and they go each complimenting one another, but I'm the lonely subject to my
environment. Being me is my toughest trial and remaining is my biggest accomplishment.
 

BY: Raphael G

Projections

What projection one finds more appealing ? The outer shell (materialistic being ) or the inner shell (spiritualistic being )? The outer shell is here today and gone tomorrow...the inner shell is here today and remains forever, eternalized in mass energy.

The question will query the answers on what foundations one builds enduring or perishable expectations. Again the question will probe a heart condition, predetermined or yielding accordingly to knowledge gained on one's projections.

The balancing act absorbs the mass energy in projections, when trivial is first and question secondary. Of what significance is gaining the world and losing the most valuable ? In our formless state, during time absent of guidance (unguided energy) by laws beyond our reach the miracle begins, energies attract energies to the point we become material....but energy first.

Being that we are materialistic and spiritualistic...why is a higher energy (power) attracted to the inner shell ? And is there a condescending attachment to which we are not synchronized with ? As human beings we are inseparable to both...yet there is higher leaning at best towards the inner shell (spiritualistic) self why ? In our formless state, then material, energy, programming is absent...during our incubation period projection come in the form passed from generation, after generation implants and gifts that become question and answers in gained or loss knowledge.

So we have this yearning, innate, superlative gift expressive as conscience, the ever awaken other half which becomes a pathway into transcendency. To be fully aware or at least able to manage the wide over-load of these projections, one must have accurate knowledge...this being the safe guard to which becomes the light itself, without crashing the fragile gains we so much take to granted.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? In other words energies is always manifesting in our lives, For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb (sacred Chamber). I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that fully well.

Coincidences is a word I rarely use when it comes to energies, its almost impossible for opposites to make lasting bonding connections to each other. So the product that you have become, may not be the final product to which you are called. Let me explain...to fully deploy our senses and gifts, during the incubation period some malevolent lost energies have misplaced errors in the genetic codes through tinkering with those divine expressions. 

We are not half the projection we are meant to be...and then there is choice. The superlative expression is not absent of conscience...never. It actually seeks the choicest energies on which to merge. It is an ongoing process of time consuming separation, some will find themselves through trial and chance while others inherit more expressive vibrations. In the long run the ultimate goal is finding you, and not conceding to the primordial lost energies to which we are all subjects...one way or the other.

We find everyday that something is fighting us, or we are fighting it. Call it what you elect to relate, and then we move on. Its not that simply its very persistent, hanging around until our last death stroke. It is subtle...benign, almost to the point we consider it part of our make-up of the twist and turns, reasons the gullible slave to which you are the call. Confuse and distracted from the daily routines we, some how by-pass true meaning and its disguise.

Again the age old conspiracy manifest disguise and meaning in the form of active or passive energies, the inexperienced become the prefer target since they are still trying to harness the greater expression. No matter the many transformation it plots, we are summons with deep rooted divine gifts to counter some very sophisticated projections, only the few will ever chart its' pathway to really break free. Its a challenge for the choicest expression woven with special characters deep in the sacred chambers...the workshop of a superlative spiritual guide.

By : Raphael G

03/17/17

Life's source

                                      Life source

Women are like the flower beds on the prairies,

they enhance the visual and stimulate the senses,

like peaks and curves of the mountain tops,

like the valleys and evergreen pastures...a delightful kaleidoscope of reflective 

lights that bounce back with charm  and inquisitive intrigues,

like a meadow in endless rejuvenation,

a waterfall in parched regions,

an oasis of never-ending want,

like shades and shadows tossed dancing dusk-to-dawn,

nocturnal roost daylight dew native and foreign visitor's fragrance chant,

sun-dance, rain-dance collaborate the seasons,

She is a kaleidoscope of charm and chant,

She is like a complex maze and puzzles, that lead to a wealth of findings and intrigue.

She is a continuous melody' that resonates like the pounding of my heart, through-out the day and night.

Like a fresh spring breeze that last many seasons,

She is like a cascade that echoes in water-less regions, bringing to life anything in it's path.

She stands alone in the presence of many, in silence she instructs her audience.

She is an inspiration of thoughts, a pool of resources.

a true gem that host the endless commotions in the eyes of a grand scheme, a perfectas love joy."


God almighty surely out did himself in creating a fine companion, for his first creative off-spring.
 
(C) Right
Raphael G

Admirer's reproach II

Admirer’s Reproach

“Why did you leave the window open?

Were you expecting a stranger in the night?
Every day I sit by the front door way, you past by like I wasn't there;
Yet your fragrances are fresh like morning dew I know better.
Your never lonely in your house angels guard your safe keeping.
Go ahead ask me where I have been? I tell you things just keep happening,
I must speak of what I have abandon, the vaulted sky the earth below, shadows tossed, and the land of broken dreams.

If I could find comfort for just a while it would be in the corner stairways;
Leading to my admirer’s reproach! Like autumn’s foliage that chariots to their winter bed,
Where is my resting place for today? Like dust driven away my soul finds no refuge…I have become tired, exhausted in my quest to reveal the sacred spiral, who is worthy in my madness?
 

Lead me captive in the sorrows of my beloved strange host where the sun rises from the Far East touching my deeps wounds. 

The many whom my strangeness admired, but stranger than none; here to abide with it in my strange loved. I lay me down until my next resurrection in the near coming spring the day of my birth many years ago when my father woven me in the secret place, not troubling where I sweetly slept.”

 She's a kaleidoscope of charm and chant,

she's like a complex maze and puzzles,

that lead to a wealth of findings and intrigue.

She's like a continuous melody that resounds like the pounding of my heart,

like a fresh spring breeze that last many seasons.

She's like a cascade that echoes in waterless regions, bringing to life anything

in its path.

She's stands alone in the presences of many, in silence she instructs her audience,

she's an inspiration of thoughts...a pool of resources, silence surrounds me as she goes about her way.
 
From the Far East a descending voice toss in the wind made its way on a long journey towards the west, From Its interpretation I was able to decipher its codes and well meant meaning. I became enchanted and eager to reveal, relentless and compulsive in what maybe its true secrets. 

I felt again promoting the rituals the heart only understand and feels, I resigned in holding back the inspiration once again. I embrace like a young child if this maybe real and worthy of conspiring with or just another natures play. Nature has many healing ways so I trust and let go of any preconceived agenda and ideas, to the amazement of my innocence,

What a treat to a child still embracing and holding true to a ritual little understood’. Within time the soft voice from the Far East continue its presentation and disclosed the paradox for which it was sent. If words where hard to find than it was certainly here that I began my stutter and stammering, a person of my endowment lost for words and thought. 

Hear me O’ wind allied of mysteries and revealer of mix thoughts bring to me your irony or paradox, hold back nothing that is worthy of inquiry and that can be of purpose and instruction. Help me find hope, as I long for the await scene of truth, happiness, love, compassion, mercy and the spirit that guides it. Deliverer of dreams tossed; show me the pathway to this wonderful journey of ruse and fascination.

BY: Raphael G

Bachelor's Dream

A Bachelor's Dreams

Show mercy towards me, soften your heart and make room in your treasures of compassion for me. I speak to you from my heart, that my greatest desires and anxieties is to have your approval so I, may exercise my goodness and loving kindness to you in a unlimited way.

I have set before me an oath that what ever becomes me, to get to you will be uprooted out. I have set before me an oath, that even the mightiest oak must bend for you are to much to let go by.

I belief that in every one of us there is goodness, and I relay on your supply to give me an opportunity to show you, the difference between he who has, and he who doesn't the difference between sadness and rejoice.

If I were to be judged, let me, be judged because of my words and not my actions.

If I were to be ignored let it be because of a time barrier and not because of persistence.

If I were to be considered let it be because I, speak the truth and God has guide my way.

If I were to be shamed let it be before my eyes for we all can grow and learn.

As the day goes by I, wonder whether it leaves a pace on which to follow, and as the years pass by I, become sadden as my dreams comes and goes and I, not able to grasp it.

If I, were to offend let it be known and I, will prostrate before you, let us meet as warriors for righteousness, reason, mercy, compassion, and kindness.

If I, were to be replace I'm slowly terminated by grief or failure, I'm also happy to state that very few could replace you, maybe none. For a fine companion who can find it?

Let presumptuousness rest in patience, in time, in love, in deeds.

May sound wisdom and discernment be to your enjoyment, and the words of the wise be your enlightenment. Dear young one until we meet again for never is a long time.

BY: Raphael G

Motherly Rescued

Motherly rescued

There is a time when man looses hope and inspiration, he finds very little comfort in his surroundings,

He somehow manages to stay afloat in the environment in which he chooses to reside.

Life to him is not so important as he ponders the effects of death, man goes and carry on his relentless pursue in finding meaning to his life,

He encounters beauty in the world where the earth is constantly being destroyed of God's purpose's, and still memories rekindle his vision about where to start again in the journey for honor, respect, loyalty, horsemanship.

Man have a sense of awareness, he knows about all things and spirituality is his greatest call, he rekindles and reaffirm...himself because of his adversaries have torn away his last strong hold, but yet his spirit is uplifted from others whom he see's as himself.

There is a cry louder than heaven it reaches God's throne, God is a just God, he hears our whispers also our thoughts, nothing goes unnoticed in the web He wove.

If man calls on God, he must not fear life or death, these two go hand to hand with his purpose.

Night follows day and day follows night a paradox, filled with meaning and disguise.

If we man or women call on Him, it will require a great sacrifice from those whom call on him. Some day ones faith will save him or challenge his or her devotion. Life is a privilege it holds many wonders, surprises, intrigues, fascinations, and a world of untold riches of spiritual gifts, eternity and God's blessings so as to marvel at his creation.

A man is God's image, women are an extension of God's tender side of compassion, I wish God was my mother to really understand my greatest want! Someday a door will open and many will be called, I hope to find the true warriors at the other side. Someday a call will empower me to venture forth as a spiritual warrior for God Almighty. Man for now yearn to find hope and inspiration to move hand and hand with God's choir.

Sept.97

The leader's regard

                                           The leader’s regard

Today, tomorrow, maybe a few days more we can endure. Some
of us will fall back do to weakness, or can’t bear it any longer,
to those still standing I give support and those dead make me stride a bit further.

Soon life will pass by and the pack will dismiss their woes, but I see harder days to go. Here I stand contemplating my path, for every death there is life and for every life there is joy and for every joy also sadness.

Victory doesn’t belong to he that claims it, but to he who tries.
I long to see does who felt short here and me there,because after all the struggles there was no reward. Here I stand and as the sun gives to shaded , my cries will be on a different note.


BY: Raphael G

Dilemma of the desire

                      DILEMMA OF THE DESIRE

My young years have flown by like migratory birds which will never return,

All things I, desire to do and yet not accomplished,

My desire is a great pain in my intestines and bones, that feed on me and though there isn't no greater desire, that road also has its Burdens,

Those I, rely on and associate with have been of no significant help but despair. Though I don't condemn them for they to ride a similar road,

My surroundings are like a prison which I, constantly war against because of circumstance. Many lost can be attributed to my surroundings,

I daily question why things go this way, and is there a purpose? I'm flatter of how life has been for me, and I, look ahead for more surprises as I, struggle to fulfill my desire.

BY: Raphael G

Sept.1992

infinite quotes

To the many surprise that life offers, the only surprise to me is the lost of a true friend.

To the many roads that spread before us, the inexperienced claims victory.

To understanding, discernment, and wisdom the righteous knowledge has been revealed, and the path of such ones is like the light of the morning sun that gets brighter and brighter as the day draws to a close.

By : Raphael G

The weight of talent

                                      The weight of talent

Far beyond our scope of reason there lays comfort,

Beyond our maturing minds we find a host of complex reasoning,

As our experience increases we are set free or imprisoned by the offset of outcome,

As time presses on we embrace for a new challenge,

we are as vulnerable as the last subject who conceived a brighter tomorrow,

Who among us can grasp the wind?

Who among us can see the sound?

Who among us can dictate the time?

We must press on with unwavering conviction that a true gesture is our only allied, and that our only escape from the falsehood that heavily entangles our motives is not to concede.

The character of many is refined through a process, the good deeds become a blurry cloud that obscures our vision,

We know so much and yet so little, so little and yet find a way. Can a physically blind man see a physical realm?

And does a thinker becomes weighted down because his projection of thought?

If I’m wrong condemn me, if I’m right execute a judgment.

By : Raphael G

Reflections

DAYS FOR REJOICE AND WEEPING

The nomads rejoice when they see newly land,

The elder widow rejoice when she sees newly weds,

The new born cries because of future sorrow,

The peasant rejoice when he sees the rainy season,

The married couple are sad, because her sterile womb can't

produce,

The criminal is guilty of a crime he doesn't understand,

Low in spirit is the heart breaker for he has lost his touch.

The poor and the rich have embarked in a race, they both will greet in the end.

The days are long, the nights are short, life passes by and so does our dreams.

There are times, things we most hope on, comes and crushes the expectation of what could have been but isn't.

I look around to comprehend the seasons, each one brings a message, even the wind tells about the future.

I stared at the birds, to listen to their interpretations, they cry and weep, rejoice and reflect of what brings the next day.

At times what causes us to be or not to be, depends on how much thought you gave to the matter.

Give a day to reason, give a day to understanding, give a

day to patience, give a day to happiness, give a day to love, give a day to peace, and a day to rest,

so you may see the pain of labor, and the sorrow of ruins.

Sometimes I'm viewed as cruel, tasteless, cold, mechanical, misplaced, but inside of me, outflows of tears overcome me, because of what has become of this world.

BY: Raphael G

Ink n paper

                                           Ink and paper

The ability to self-express, I mean really to convey the true person (the secret person) individual,
takes on a whole dimension and approach.
Being spontaneous to many is like bursting with words and actions aimlessly. But to the well trained and sight, being the true-self, took on a life time of achievements.

The emotional-self (nurturing being) and logical-self (mechanical being) these characters are at a cross-point, since the beginning of time, and just as ancient ! The balance of gifts, may take someone a life cycle and then at our last death stroke we become endow with the ultimate expression.

To be truly free is not rationalizing that we are the wind...to ride the wind is an abstract mindset.

To flow like a mighty river or a gentle stream invokes great passion, when the spirit is stirred it reveals wonders...yet there is a hollow void that chokes at the end.

So where are we ? When the questions and answers are so inspiringly crafted, that seeking the ultimate-expression can lead to a host of the unknown !

Again I take to the Ink and white paper, they hold and record the knowledge...lost and found, seeking its audience, breaking all barriers...setting a path on which there can be guidance, not demanding nor dictating , just benevolent...patient and all embracing.

10/20-1/2016
Raphael G

Lament for departed doll

                   Lament for departed doll

Here once again I sit surrounded by creation. By a small stream of water that tell tales about my life's esteems that once were so plentiful and massive trees that reveal history. By musical bird’s that play haunting melodies, expressing their version of happiness. By laborious creatures that don't give up trying and a restless sunlight beaming on the leaves of where I shade.

Here I sit in the middle of nowhere all directions I look there's a road or a passageway someone once took, my heart desires to help but, who knows how far they stumble forth?

As I patiently sit observing my surroundings I saw a cat decorated in flashing colors distracted and even took no notice of me determine by her pains and a belly full of unborn kittens, she flagged by anxious about her where about's.

Here in the middle of nowhere one comes to meditate and initiate contact with his creator. As I sat patiently a few cautious passers bye's managed to stroll along their path and I wandered!

I long to know and press ever forward too that extra mile to find a road or a path that can lead me to you. For every breath of air fills me with wonderful thoughts about you. Here I send you things a heart can do.

Everything in life is temporarily but the memories of you are everlasting. Your innocent smile brings joy to all low in spirit. Present yourself to me in ways unknown and I, will judge you righteous, for your ways are wonderful, beautiful, and charming. I'm the one who knows and will not give in trying to interpret them. For your ways, are signals to those who follow.

I have found my way towards you, with the little courage that resides me, and the valor I can summons from above. Truly I'm like a young lad in search of understanding, Like the birth of a new star awaiting acceptance, awaiting placing, seeking instruction, finding little hope, stumbling to reach hearts, and yet I weep, I joy, I endure, with many thanks for my very existence is a privilege.

Renew your friendship with me, just as the season compliments one another. Point my way out to the light again, lead my soul out of captivity, be the one to save me and I will be in debt to you forever. Compassion, mercy, reason, and love had a debate at the end they all gave way and rejoiced.

                                
(5/2-10/12-94)               

BY:Raphael G

© right

If life is a Struggle

If life is a Struggle

If life is a struggle, what does death offers in the long run?

Why do we grief over our short comings?

In high places sits the arrogant, time makes the calls and he is of little means!

Time is a thief it robs us of our youth, it makes us gray and savvy, only to reverse as we become children again in our unstable state.

If only we could remain children’s forever can we challenge time?

Time produces; time reduces, and time the crook that steals values as it never burns out. When one wonders time laughs, when one is hurting time laughs, when one is lonely time laughs, time follows no command it is space to be filled, infinite like the thief’s treachery, ever present to observe and molest our slightest moments, like a 

motionless predator it works its web, and consumes, destroys.

The time capsule that never runs out, the subjects trapped in its belly with little hope, time the unscrupulous vigilant, the giver and taker of life.

Time drags when it is having greater moments, the time is and the time will come for all under its sight to time no more!

If not for the cosmos, and the seasons we would be like the dust particles, cosmic drift tossed in the wind, miniature particles of matter that resemble time itself in so many ways.

The Great Spirit is great, find him and make him your allied. Bow to the mysteries and secrets that simple minds charge at, because understanding is not its helper.

The balance of nature is becoming undone, who can reverse it? Oh father/mother earth that sustains life for a little while, you that shelters the offspring’s of creation in the bosom of paradise, she calls for the souls to fertilize her grounds, she cries out with open mouth and a belly that’s never satisfied.

(C) write protected

Raphael G

Spring of 2010

Dream Weaver

 

Dream weaver

Like a voyage of long ago,

A time long awaited, where the inspiration rejuvenates an inspirator of dreams,

there aren't rehearsed dreams better than agitated currents,

nothing prepares an inspirator for events so impacting like these...only that emotions and innate feelings incorporate to weave complex feelings that exhaust the soul already in surrender.

Again I find myself embracing for the shock of my life...like it was yesterday.

I reason like a innocent young lad in my search for truth, harmony, feelings, principles, and virtues...Oh Lord save me' help me' give strength...understanding in this world of dreams that never seem to seize pouring my way...I'm not dignified of the leveled thinking.

If poetry is letters of second hand, why do I find myself hindered in what is revealed before me? If poetry is letters of second hand' why do I summons a supreme being? Like this was a debate between me and the creator! My reinforcement is to continue revealing the fundamental things of the heart and pursue the current correctness in guiding the senses.

Never doubt what I write...from the most profound things of the heart inspired reasoning ushers forth what the dream weaver feels in his inspired search.

There can be no falsehood in revealing...more likely it is the initial stage to convocate dialogue, where there is invocation souls come together like poetry and the letters to promote communication in the field of thinking. Poetry and its power for sure have gained its rewarding crown for time to come.

She weaves my broken dreams,

she's soft like the morning mist,

she has these beautiful blues...one is the vast oceans...the other a bright sky in a touching spring break,

she's a master work of whom the thinkers of modern and ancient times debate if she is true or not,

she's an electrifying maiden, no need for dynamic energy to assemble my thoughts,

She would be a great lament if lost and the Divine beings would lament her for an eternity.

What would become of me if she was bones of my bones and fresh of my fresh? I care for her like the hen care for their kind.

I would be enchanted with her like a toddler and toy of interest,

she would be my toy in my eternal toddling.

What can a poor gentile man do for a maiden such touching? If life is all I possess ...than my sacrifice is not in vain!

She's hope for a fallen people and they anticipate in her revealing treasures, O' grandiose king of eternity woe' to me if this was letter of second hand, you are my guide...My fort and my call...you my Judge' that the reality is the sacred expression.

O' my Lord equip me for the outstanding of this dream, you well know my tragedy...I'm innocent in this dream that I can't construct, prepare my path according to the events of worth and surprises in which I must embrace, I ask no more...otherwise that the sacred expression returns fortified in a world of abnegation and absences.

© right protected

By: Raphael G

 06/15-23/07

Amish Shack

                                        The Amish Shack

They the raving blues that never seem too tire out always on a move like Nomadic caravans from the slightest sound or encompassing position, like a satellite hovering and dancing from above it intrigues and fascinate the observer. The piercing blues that cause so much commotion and excitement in my soul, sending it into bliss of mind bending thoughts. Like a foundries heat that consumes my inquisitive yearnings that contest debate, promoting sanity in an ever winding circular motion of complex undertaking.

Like a dungeon they imprison me as they go about its taxing ways, innocently partaker of the observer; oblivion host. In a world of sadness blue is not so blue after all, the oceans, the vaulted sky, the covenant arc, blue is eternal as promise from above. Two blue pearls in its sockets that reveal enigmas and provide a multitude of reasoning.

Enlighten me, charm me, lead my soul captive in want. I make oath with almighty Yahweh, to never remove me from your sight, keeping me writing and sleepless day and night. Drain my energy, my life’s resources! I feel the sense and meaning of true giving around you. Let heavens be weighted down on our behalf and its host rejoice one more time. If it’s a sin to let go from the abundance of the heart, than I boast as one of them all. I chase the heart as a child would after the passing of a butterfly, as it explores the new world of curiosities laughing and smiling with-out contempt lighting up the biggest fires racing out of control in a givers want.

The poet in quest to decipher meaning and revelations, the ultimate opportunity to engage in a ritual so ancient and yet all embracing. Like an outcast in all his approach, like mission all too impossible… he makes good medicine of what is placed before him. A road tread once too often he walks away with his head bow ever vigilant of what’s next in his quest to reveal.

The enigmatic blues and beautiful of them all, the one subject unique of them all. The shack I frequent to quell my thirst and hunger, the honoree of my life esteems tossed oblivion host. The inspirations never seem to vanish yet I have matured riddled; only if I could remain youthful forever to chase the uncatchable, to race against the wind one more time, to exhaust not like a wolverine relentless in his search, his pursuit. Oh almighty God be the blue eyes in the world in which I seek encouragement, and we shall write many good words together.

I write for you Oh mighty one at all times, when I contemplate beauty of all sort not far away I’m writing about your infinite designs, the everlasting perfect bond of love… imprinted in us humans. She is beautiful like Eden’ indeed and many jubilating souls praise her for the woman she has become. A thousand spring seasons may linger in paradise, but as for me you will be my favorite under God Almighty's watchful eyes; as I serene you and him with expressions of endearment.

I have made you my daily prayer and in these last days I’m not sure about my call, but certainly I have faith that in paradise God almighty; will afford me an link pen where my thoughts race once again after you. Just too unsettled my soul their twins, who is worthy? Of this inspiration only those beautiful blues can tell. Admirable and skilled parents worthy of tribute and off-springs that shower like a cascading powerful crag of waterfalls keep pushing my threshold… I seek an audience with you once again because my spirit is always at lost.

10/2010/01/2011 By: Raphael G

(C) Right protected

Martyr/Party Of YHWH

                  or Lance Collins

All one needs to know about Johnny Todd

 The English word “martyr” is derived from the Greek term mar′tys, meaning “witness”—that is, one who observes a deed or event. But the Greek word means more than that. The Biblical mar′tys is also “active,” states one Greek lexicon, “called upon to tell what he has seen and heard, to proclaim what he knows.” All true Christians, and all faith of good will, have the obligation to bear witness to what they know about Jehovah/God Almighty (YHWH) and his purposes. (Luke 24:48; Acts 1:8) The Scriptures call Stephen a “witness” for speaking about Jesus.—Acts 22:20,

 Christian witnessing often means facing opposition, arrest, beatings, and even death. Thus, from as early as the second century C.E., “martyr” also came to signify one who suffers such consequences rather than renounce his faith. It is in this sense that Stephen may be called the first Christian martyr. Originally, though, a person was considered a “martyr” because he witnessed, not because he died. Well either way is acceptable and the later of much more weightier  matter since the giver and taker has full authority over the subject.

“At hearing these things they felt cut to their hearts and began to gnash their teeth at him.”—Acts 7:54  Yes the powers to be would prefer one remains silent and not expand on the erosive and corruptible work undermining our human existence. They prefer one not learn and come to a full knowledge or contemptible breaching of the hidden hand. A diligent researcher can be counter-productive and balance to the ever menacing architect "of the great question?" pertaining to the Universal challenge, imposed by hot seat dictators or counterfeiters that have been at work from long ago.

Monument to Witness Holocaust Survivor Unveiled in Germany

 Museum and monument open to the public.
 

Gamaliel, “a Law teacher esteemed by all the people, made his case....

  “Do not meddle with these men, but let them alone; (because.. if this scheme or this work is from men, it will be overthrown; but if it is from God, you will not be able to overthrow them;) otherwise, you may perhaps be found fighters actually against God.” (Acts 5:38, 39)

Remember these words in acts they serve as a witness that the Almighty is at work, and certainly backing all believers in the struggles. Undaunted, they continued “every day in the temple and from house to house” the work of “declaring the good news about the Christ.”* (Acts 5:42) The demons also shake and tremble at the sight of Godly people and before they arrive they take to flee, closing doors... shouting and indiscriminately feeling a sense of withdraw.(James 2:19 "You believe that there is one God, do you? You are doing quite well. And yet the demons believe and shudder." 

The arch enemy is well aware of the power of Jesus Christ...
“Did you come to destroy us?” (Mark 1:24)they are our enemies, so make it your own too shun them from every wrong activity it may try lead one into. There are also many accounts when they acknowledge the Messiah, identifying him before on-looker's. What was the response...(Mark 5:7...10) " 7 Then he cried out with a loud voice: “What have I to do with you, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I put you under oath by God not to torment me.” 8 For Jesus had been saying to it: “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit.” 9 But Jesus asked him: “What is your name?” And he replied: “My name is Legion, because there are many of us.” 10 And he kept pleading with Jesus not to send the spirits out of the country...

Luke 8:31

31 And they kept pleading with him not to order them to go away into the abyss. 

                                                                 John Huss

An Italian clergyman pronounced the sentence of condemnation for Huss. Even at that time, he said that he would only be convinced once he has been given proof from Holy Scriptures. As a result, he was enrobed in priestly vestments and asked to recant. Still, he refused. At this, all his ornaments were taken and his priestly tonsure was destroyed. Huss was deprived of all rights and was delivered to the secular powers. A high paper hat, with the word 'Haeresiarcha' inscribed on it, was placed on his head and he was taken away by armed men.

At the execution ground, Huss spread his hands and prayed aloud. After undressing him, the executioners tied his hands behind his back with ropes. His neck was tied, with a chain, to a stake around which wood and straw had been piled up, in such a way that it covered him up to the neck. Count Palatine asked Huss for the last time whether he wanted to recant and save his life or die. Huss preferred to die and was thus, burnt to death.

                                                     John Huss Documentary
 
So with this comforting news and witnessing work we take heed to remain ever vigilant, light bearer's until the final call. There is a large list of people of faith whom gave their life, so that other could live. Martyr's of first and second century down to our present day, awaiting trials in prison in communist countries and repressive dictator’s.

 

"Let it not make thee despair, neither yet discourage thee, O reader, that it is forbidden thee in pain of life and goods, or that it is made breaking of the king's peace, or treason unto his highness, to read the Word of thy soul's health—for if God be on our side, what matter maketh it who be against us, be they bishops, cardinals, popes."

William Tyndale could speak seven languages and was proficient in ancient Hebrew and Greek. He was a priest whose intellectual gifts and disciplined life could have taken him a long way in the church—had he not had one compulsion: to teach English men and women the good news of justification by faith.

Tyndale had discovered this doctrine when he read Erasmus's Greek edition of the New Testament. What better way to share this message with his countrymen than to put an English version of the New Testament into their hands? This, in fact, became Tyndale's life passion, aptly summed up in the words of his mentor, Erasmus: "Christ desires his mysteries to be published abroad as widely as possible. I would that [the Gospels and the epistles of Paul] were translated into all languages, of all Christian people, and that they might be read and known."

Also many reforms carried their works in the likes of John Wycliff, thou there was already revisionist as early as the 1200's in France and Spain...a group of scholars and followers known as the https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lollards they sworn to continue were he left off.

God's outlaw/documentary

I don't infringe on any copy right or intellectual property...on the same basis I expect the same, but the question never occurs to me. I to cut and paste...and can't call it my own. labored property would be usurping if a taken without consent. So rest free I have no interest in personal gains only that which is by inheritance.