The original Frosted Flakes.
Fierce tears.
A failed spark
Seems still dark
Felt as stark
The closet I park
Do I read Mark?
Do I sing or bark?
Is it open, the door of the arc?
Am I drowning in good standing?
I’m doing what your commanding.
My feet are landing
Understanding is expanding
Thought it was a plan
Instead it was a Man
I was about to run
Until I heard son.
Hoping tills coping skills.
If the dark shows our heart
Where then do I start?
Is a question an important part?
Is Truth what mends or tears apart?
Is a question the horse before the cart?
I’m thinking now no question.
I’m feeling now no thinking
I’m seeing now no feeling
My prayer just rose above the ceiling.
I’m now steel into the knight.
Short-term action within longterm thinking.
Lemon ate. Eliminate. Illuminate.
The dance, modified by circumstance, not chance.
The lead, not Lancelot, but lanced a lot.
Well done not rare. Outlasting the unfair.
Critical thinking while criticized without blinking.
Fiercely and tenderly committed while submitted.
Taught when caught while being sought.
Awake during sleep as a sheep under His keep.
Making time for the sublime. Ready to turn on a dime.
Broken into a remake. Remarkable through heartache.
Peace as the release becoming a masterpiece.
The ultimate facelift from harmonizing shame with repentence.
Cleaner and better and better energy.
Faux pa.
Intensely sharpened.
It takes pause, Pas, and paws.
The birth of a storm
Is it fire or is it form
Is its desire cold or is it warm
Is it delight or is it scorn
Is it a question about to be born
Is the answer seamless or torn
What does the promise warn
Oh I remember why I was born