I had intended to enter a belated Thanksgiving blog, but My Blessed Friend asked me to enter this poem, a prayer, that I wrote to Him several years ago. He is our Truth and our Light. Hear how He prevails.
Sing, good Truth, Your ancient song;
Fashion stunning weapons to obliterate wrong;
Transform the weak to prevail over the strong;
Chase memories down corridors where they do not belong.
Shine Light, dear Truth; open eyes of the blind;
Tear up masks that the mind
Meticulously painted to hide behind;
Unveil the faces that you find.
Truth, steal kisses within the breast
Where dread and beauty spar and rest.
Shatter holes in images, putting dreams to savage test;
Create a blinding paradox to drive the soul into a quest.
Truth, whisper honesty at an unexpected hour;
Against uncertain winds protect the wounded flower;
Then ignorance and emptiness grow unpalatably sour;
Embrace Your burning skill; assert Your samurai power.
Truth is our warrior. Employ Him to protect you and all whom you hold dear. He has our back when we are in Him. His assertions are like steel. His clarity is sharper than a diamond. His vision passes through all things. Trust Him.
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