Heading west, heading east

red-dirt

Heading west…

 

The Aussie bloke drives west,
To find the perfect place,
That lives inside his head
To occupy that space,
The north would be too hot
The south would be too cold,
The east is too familiar
He looks for foolish gold.

The Scottish lass turns to the east
To chase the Spanish sun,
To fly away from Celtic stress
And guilt from Catholic Nuns,
To chase a promised freedom
By fake celebrities
She flys like Scottish birds
To a place called “I’m care free”.

 

spain-beach

Heading east..Spanish beach

 

Moon shaped landscape

 

The moon shines on it name sake landscape
Peaking behind touchable 3D clouds
That move as fast as the Lewis wind.

Northern stars keek at the moon shined terrain
Never moving, stable as the rocks that hold together
A melted snow drenched country.

The rippling loch co-operates with the Atlantic ocean air
And creates a dance in sync with flying geese
Jagged and graceful, separate and together.

The Islands other inhabitants;
Strong people, strong houses, strong fences, able to resist all weather
Fit snugly into where the land permits.

The sun rises on what it promised;
Rugged and tree-less attractive beauty; like the Gaelic language,
Hard to understand but beautiful.

 

We arrived late at night at Tobson, on the Isle of “Greater Bernera” [Gaelic: “Bearnaraigh”], (a Western Island from Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland) for a break. The moon came and went with the clouds.

“keek” is a Scots word for “look” or “peak”. Scottish Gaelic is the first language. English is the second language.

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Who are these ?

“All the angels stood around the throne and the elders and the four living creatures, and fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying: “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom, Thanksgiving and honor and power and might, Be to our God forever and ever. Amen.” Then one of the elders answered, saying to me, “Who are these arrayed in white robes, and where did they come from?” And I said to him, “Sir, you know.” So he said to me, “These are the ones who come out of the great tribulation, and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” “Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will dwell among them. They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”” ‭‭Revelation‬ ‭7:11-17‬ ‭

Who are these ?.

They are loud
They sound like strong, powerful and moving waters
Making their critical mass noise where they don’t deserve.

Loud and white
Red and white
Blood red and white apparel
Blood red, white and loud
Suit these loud worshippers
Before the throne of the donor.

But despite the local clothing
The question is asked because
They look like strangers: do they belong before this throne ?
Are they worthy of the King’s focus ?
They are unrecognisable…who are these ?.

The answer comes like a scientific discovery…
They are totally different to what they were:
Smelling of the vile odor of death.

Now transfigured:
They are singers
They are dancers
They are thinkers
They are overcomers
They lovers
They are soldiers
They are forgivers
They are victors.

They are clean and white
They are pure and red
History re-written…
They look totally different.

Angels, creatures, elders get it…
Is that them ?
Really ?
What an amazing change !

The heavenly response flows:
Life circulates between the throne and the vessels of love:
Shepherding
Protection
Love both ways.

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The veil is taken away

Moses condescends to the foot of the mountain
His face shining out of the darkness and tempest
A veil restricts the view of glory
By closed minds and blinded hearts.

Jesus condescends to the foot of the mountain
His face bloodied by an evil crown
A veil restricts the view of glory
By closed minds and blinded hearts.

Jesus draws up to Himself a different people
His face shining till there is no darkness
There is no veil to restrict the glory
For hearts who have turned to behold His face.

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A slowish burn

Mark 4:28 “For the earth yields crops by itself: first the blade, then the head, after that the full grain in the head”

Line upon line
Faith upon faith
We are transformed
Grace upon grace.

By faith and patience
We inherit
Promises given
Gradually cherished.

First the seed
Then the stem
His Word & Spirit
Fills the head.

Transformation
A slowish burn
From the Seed
And soiled turned.

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A spiritual cuisine

I am the snow
I come and go
With a melted soul
I make rivers flow.

I am the storm
I’m cold and warm
I quickly change form
So I can transform.

I am the sea
I am the deep
I’m life underneath
So I am carefree.

I am the sun
Never outdone
Clouds cannot shun
What I have begun.

I am the rain
Droughts never gain
I feed food chains
I don’t stay in drains.

I am the clouds
Constant sky shrouds
Love being in a crowd
Black & white proud.

I’m what is seen
The Mother Earth queen
A spiritual cuisine
Can you see what I mean ?.

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The promise of closing time

Lipstick smears on her centre piece
That was botoxed till it’s a crime
It’s time for the Friday night ritual
To make it past closing time.

There’s no way to beat the boredom
The emotion instructs the mind
Unless you keep the tradition
To play way past closing time.

Though she thinks she is hot
The size of her dress belies
The cold that is hers outside
Way past the closing time.

She loves the super attention
But knows it’s a deep as their eye
But she takes it while it’s on offer
Hopes it lasts until closing time.

Her subjects begin to leave
Bellies full of alcohol slime
Emptiness begins to fill her
Cos she knows that it’s closing time.

The taxi ride home seems a blur
As the keys let her stagger inside
So she can do it again
That’s the promise of closing time.

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A soldier of the cross

A soldier of the cross
Knows the fiery darts
That try to cut through truth
To wound the softened heart,
The breastplate does its job
Protecting bloodied faith
Paid for by the One
Who loves to keep it safe.

A soldier of the cross
Holds up steely shields
Protecting the whole body
The Holy Spirit seals,
From enemy attack
And what the scoundrel shoots:
Accusing and constant lies
Without an ounce of truth.

A soldier of the cross
Hardness often endures
Draws from Who’s within
To rest and feel secure,
For the Captain of the Army
Is powerful and wise
To use the enemy’s war
For a soldier’s good and right.

A soldier of the cross
Exhibits bodily marks
Resembling the same
As the murdered Christ,
The wounds become a badge
Never hidden in a drawer
He might lose a few battles
But will never lose the war.

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The Queens of Stirling Castle

The Stirling Castle flowers speak
To those who stop their feet and mind walking
And declares in honesty the verity of the corporeal soul
Among the insects who fill the air.

The Queens of the Castle though colourful, beautifully crafted, fresh, scented, celebrated and majestic
Will enjoy a short reign
Before they fade in the summer Sun
But the shortness of their reign
Does not traduce their glory and usefulness.

But the invisible soul smells the new life won
Sees the hope in the beauty
Hears the sound of the Chief musician
Feels the joy of the Producer.

And has Royal ascent to lounge and play
For the dancing Composer calls the tune
Tends His garden
Protects His field
Provides for His guardians.

When these Queens pass,
Next season, new proclaimers will be appointed,
And continue to personify the beauty of Him.

Queens of Stirling Castle

Note : I took this photo at Stirling Castle. They are local wildflowers. The flower shows us how that human kind, though rebellious, still has a glory. But also, to the believer in Christ, exhibits truths of His Kingdom…if you can see it.

 

“Man who is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble. He comes forth like a flower and fades away; He flees like a shadow and does not continue.”
‭‭Job‬ ‭14:1-2‬ ‭

“My beloved spoke, and said to me: “Rise up, my love, my fair one, And come away. For lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing has come, And the voice of the turtledove Is heard in our land.”
‭‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭2:10-12‬ ‭

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. If then God so clothes the grass, which today is in the field and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will He clothe you, O you of little faith?”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭12:27-28‬

You’re not !

If you think you’re not enough
And of sub standard stuff
To be in the Christian club
You’re not !.

If you say that you’re not clean
And say that you’re not seen
And no different from a machine
You’re not !.

If you feel that no one cares
You’re playing musical chairs
Unworthy of Heaven’s share
You’re not.

When voices scream you’re done
And the treachery weighs a ton
And you are the lie that’s spun
You’re not !.

It seems that God’s not there
It seems that God’s not fair
Your placed where there’s no prayer
You’re not !.

It’s all about who you are
And Him who drives the car
Think you’re defined by your scars ?.
You’re not !.