We the Children Following
A Whisper Transcribed
A Whisper Transcribed
I bow my head,
In hushed silence,
Waiting, listening,
For the Whisper,
That it might come again,
And take these digits,
Using them for devotion,
For awe-drenched worship.
Sitting, still…
Prayers offered,
For Glory revealed
That this Soul might know.
The Source sanctified,
Light bathed in luminosity,
Love transcribed through living,
Tablets of heart, engraved.
To know the Fullness
Through failings, attempts, and futility
Through varied methodologies,
Offerings sprinkled with blood and lament .
To arrive at our beginning,
Through the end,
To become Beheld by longing’s loss,
To Love as we have been loved.
Through many and far
Have I, and We, traveled
Miles beyond numbers,
Joined through the Truth, Gospelled
Holy in context,
Selves forged through suffering,
Found not as separate, Unified
Not as powerful, but belonging to the surpassing Power
We the Children of His Majesty,
Known and fully unknown,
Sealed in the scroll of the Lambs,
Book of life before life began
We worship in waiting,
We worship in Spirit and Truth.
We worship in our flaws,
And We do not hide our face.
Let it be known…
We the Children following,
In footsteps stained in blood,
By the Eternal Light Yeshua.
We are not what the world decree’s.
We are not who we ourselves declare.
We are not who we fear.
We are who He has said we are becoming.
Not by effort, lest some boast.
Not by will, Nor by lies,
But by surrender,
So in living we ascribe, Form to the Formless and Rise.
Beloved one and all.
Chosen Vessels and Inheritance,
Priests and priestesses both,
Abiding, Eternally, in The Presence
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