Golden Shore

We are all but specks of dust

fallen from what lay above

left astray to find that one

to play this game they call Love.

 

Created high upon an astral plane

we dive dual—a broken flame.

Our souls but puppets

strung with glorious Grace

upon His golden shore.

This life but a stage

separated by nothing more

than the thoughts that rattle around a cage.

 

But it is what drips within our mind

—a hint of gold

paints itself upon our soul.

A nectar so sweet

for what once was dead

finds a new thread.

 

In the darkest of places

we must give the most light

fed with faith and starved of fear.

Then comes a voice

all shall hear

shivered loud—ringing clear.

 

Love it falls like a drip

eternal from a golden mind

trickling through your heart

comes a faith so kind.

For fed is the soul

flowing with milk and honey

from an oil so sacred

it keeps the lamp of Heaven

forever trimmed

and always burning.

BeLove © 2018


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My roots are buried in the Dirty South. I grew up learning the importance of God and Southern Charm. I began writing in my late teens mostly through heartbreak and music. I moved out west 15 years ago and live right around the corner from the Fountain Of Youth. Most people refer to it as Lake Tahoe. I play Chef during the day and search for ways to save the world by night, through reading, writing, and believing. I enjoy the side of life that is less abrasive. I look forward to joining you on my quest through Spiritual Sobriety with the Promised Land as our ultimate destination.

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