Sunday, January 7, 2007

Darkisle Gazette

January night, one a.m., and I'm clicking away in the dark again. An insatiable desire, an unstoppable drive, as the words pour out the ends of my fingers, to you. The swaying spruce through the roof-window tells the story, a dark and liquid night.

Prophesies told and hearts now are burning, as they wait for the start of seven years of plenty. As though a voice from of old, these words so familiar, pour hope into cores gone dry. As the rain that is falling, your Spirit sends oil, filling the lamps of our hearts.

Let us shine, Lord, let us shine. Let your Spirit shine for all to see. Lend your glory to your bride here on earth. Make us spotless, clean and white, to bring joy to your heart oh my God. Yaweh, El Shaddai, El Ayona, Adonai.

Cincinnati is yours, my Lord.

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