Ode to Love

"Both In This, Come Hell..." "Or high water!"  "Let's pray for high water, but prepare for hell. That way, we're ready regardless." She nods. All grown up, and still likes a good bedtime story from time to time. 

So it seems we have reunited, oneself and The Night of Mysterious Objects. When every object speaks forth, and has a story to tell. Hall by hall they are arranged, down each hall all will be told. They whisper that they wish to speak and then sing when given half a chance, if only they had the movement to dance! For now we will approach as has been given, with a conversation or two struck up with an end table or stove, over the course of the night, until it ends too soon. 

John 10:18 "No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.” This ability To lay down, pick up your life Is yet unequaled Fundamentally Knowing where one goes and is Is the greatest lot This permanence stays  When everything falls away This permanence stays A recursive gift Once solidified, granted Like a garment new  Least stroke of the pen As a thread sewn through garment I borrow your Word/You borrow my tongue Know who you have been Same eyes behind every skin Know who you will be Know me from my first A photobook unfolding Know me through my last Then pick up your life Walk familiar paths made straight Return home to me Luke 7:26-27 But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: “‘I will send my messenger ahead of you,     who will prepare your way before you.’"

"... Knock and the door will be opened to you. Matthew 7:7." There is a knock at the door. "...Truly I tell you, I don’t know you. Matthew 25:12." I have no idea who it is. Still, I move to open it. "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour. Matthew 25:13"

Hope and I lay on the summit, even though the hooka is gone. "Tell me a bedtime story." "So all the skeletons stepped forward, and announced themselves as, in fact, sentient. Those that could, stepped back and resealed their skin suits. Other than that, nothing happened. That was how World War III ended that night. Sweet dreams."