Ode

Somewhere in the middle, a bit over the top of regular movement 

I could imagine there is no form before there was

i can make time to find peace, the pieces of peace that make a whole truth

gladdened by the fact that i will go home one day, i tread a while further

searching to find a gust of wisdom

deep down aches calling me to my pain

high up heavens singing of Gods grace and in it, i see the shape, 

i see , the place i am meant 

we must die to the self that is self seeking sovereignty 

to find the mind that is cleansed and content with servitude 

no boarder or box to fill in

the simplicity of silence and the blessing of boisterous banter alike 

all come to a head as the anguish of living is met by the will of the Most High. tangled 

The Pale white horseman guiding my goodness into the planes of hope i make my mind mend 

so i speak what is meant

Lord of my hope, show me mercy on days where i fail to wait 

Lord of my peace show me your branches as i look to the glory set before me. 

As i asend to the feet of your greatness

bring me into a mind of peace

Letting my layers lay , my innards heal 

and the voice of my heart be quieted by your greatness

a prayer is in many ways a way

a moment of giving for the sake of thanks