Crag the Crow

It comes in the dark After the failures: regrets, burdens of the mind.  It comes to a man of some promise Who doubts his Creator Who doubts his own heart Who doubts the hope - though it is his core.  The hope is buried It’s very thing suppressed.  The hope is despaired Though it froths with great strength.  The hope calls the slumber to end, The hiding to become boldness,  The fear to take its place again and again as nothingness.  A single light, Here on my hand.  Entering my mouth  At this dark moment.  Dark depth and silence broken by industry, or fatigue, or frivolity.  All these being good, properly conceived.  We don’t do sarcasm.  We do raw honesty.  We rise from the errors.  We battle the enemy of the strength.  We rise to earthly service and find light’s source.  After and through the yielding to momentary death:      ...

She makes me write. Bestows the ability, Unlocks it from the dangerous cavern where it was manacled. Loving freely, Graciously remaining. I have no fears about releasing my story.

This is my Christmas post.  Trust me for a bit on that. Allow yourself to rise up.  Meditate on what it means, or the process by which, you can become greater than you have ever thought you could be.  Leave behind ideas of materialism, or even what pop culture offers as spiritualism.  Identify not with the crude matter, but give great psychological effort to becoming one with the Force, that the Force may become one with you.  If we can find clarity enough to look inside of our own souls we will find that there is a secret hope there, implanted by the Creator.  While the Jedi hoped for the Chosen One, we have a hope for the messianic.   Click here to read the rest.