God.
Creator of all things.
So Glorious and Beautiful that
not even the angels can look at Him.
The seraphim fly around His throne,
two of their six wings covering their faces.
They stir the Holy Waters into swirls and eddys of translucent rainbows. Then they sing and sing and sing of his Glory and Majesty. I believe not only because they were made to do so... but also because they glimpse His Shekinah Glory between their feathers!

Accolades to the Most High.
The river of life, The Fountain of truth,
where wisdom dwells and love is alive.
The true physician, salvifically laboring
to heal warped characters of
despondent creatures.
Will you drink from the eternal spring
and be revived?

There are many springs,
there are many wells,
from which to draw.
But they are empty holes
which cannot fill.
Broken cisterns...
which cannot hold water.
Will you come to Him?
To the True Well of all wells?
To the Fountain of Living Waters,
Who alone can quench your
soul's thirst?
All praise and glory be
to the One who alone is
The Water of Life.
All praise and glory and honour
to the One whose voice is like
the sound of many waters.
Will you come to Him?
That you might never thirst.
Again.


SoulSurvivor.
Jamie King.
The Faithful Dreamer*.

Perhaps many of us don't realize
  That life
Harbors secrets and lessons around every corner
  But also harbors many disappointments
Each lie spewed like venom is poison to the tongue
  But each accomplishment is sweet upon the lips
Many moments are wasted and taken for granted
  But that's not true for some
Eventually the human race will understand
  That life is just about
Fairy tales and make believe or misery and agony
  It's a bittersweet mixture of both
With dashes of hope and pinches of despair
  It's a perfect recipe
For honesty and for dares

Share with me Cherie  
The life you left unwoken
Asleep under ice

Send me your sweet heart
Riddled with self-inflicted
Knife wounds I may mend

I feel in your words
In your thoughts the flesh you sear
In hope of sealing

And hiding the pain
Of existence without love
Living from below

You are not alone
Cherie do not
Be afraid

Cherie please
Do not wait
For me

My mind
Likes to deceive me

I find someone
truly someone

And they're shattered from me
by a gas smaller than I can see

Shattered into a reality
I've been avoiding my whole life

Dear young, hopeless Cherie
How shall I hope to survive?

Have I told you dear
How in the Summer
When Mama
Was still here

And the Sun God shone
Down my shoulders
Flowing over
My soul

How I loved sifting sand
Through my fingers
Watching the waves
Grow nearer

How I loved the ripples
Lost in my eyes
The rushing
Those waves

The sudden crashing
The not knowing
The dragging
The cold

The under water rays
Of light beaming
A fleeting glimpse
Of gold

Lost in the depths
Forever
Until

Spit out on scorched shore
For air
Gasping
Exhausted
Reality

I am here
Back here
Without you dear
Drowning

Note is wrapped around a small pink apple, the size of a fist*

I suppose
But what better honor is there
than to wait for the right time
and receive but more glory
in which to bathe your humble self
instead of crashing and burning,
being missed by all whose eyes
have had the pleasure of
meeting yours.

My irises,
for one,
would love
nothing more
than to witness
the fire within the
saddened eyes of
the friend I have made
easily, almost too easily.

Niklas.
It rolls off my tongue better than my
own name, it sounds of bells within
my dimwitted mind. If you could hear,
I would sing it over and over again to
be borne by the fingers of the wind
goddesses for your ears and yours alone
to relish, to give you rest from your
current toil.

How helpless am I, Little Cherie.

You may be right
But we all have our own fences don't we,  Cherie?

Cherie: a sweet name
A dear name
For a dearer mind

But,  angel
There is honor in the flight, you know
It is better to have flown
Than to be forever grounded

It is more noble to have know
Than to be eternally  lost
In ignorance

My battered heart
I hope you may mend
Dear Cherie

But you must tread carefully
On this fragile soil
Dear friend

.... My own name
..... Is Niklas