Emancipation

As this saga draws to a close (or maybe, as the first lines have now been set), I feel a great release and a longing for more. It’s as though the first journey has been completed, though, unknown to the reader, the trial was merely a quest for initiation – a fire of testing. As the dross and imperfections begin to melt away, one can sense the beginnings of a new beautiful creation; purer, fairer, robust, and sure. Above all, I believe the result is Truth; a shining truth that whispers of a journey of origin and a lifetime of destiny.

The release is a part of me that needed to let go. Severing the chains that so easily entangle is a progressing idea, not a singular apprehension. Yet, for so long, I have thus treated the Hope that is right before our very eyes. May the lost hours, days, and months be forever a reminder of my blind stumbling and stubborn pride.

As to the longing: may it grow in strength. May the desire for the dawn and the will to enter into the heavenly chorus of praise and worship become a perpetual crescendo even through the fires of life’s testing. For those who are willing, and those who are weak, and those who are seeking, and those who may sink, may find hope, and His strength, answers that satisfy, and refuge from the storm. For since the Son has been born on the wings of the dawn, the Brave may sing on not still in the dark, but wrapped with shining gold, and safe in His everlasting arms. Thus: Part Two.

Emancipation

The blackened hues that paint the skies,
Now spread their falsehood far and wide,
The hope the Earth once saw with eyes,
Lies locked beneath the darkened tide.

The Sun a distant memory,
Led captive to a midnight grave,
Sees those who wait expectantly,
And burns to whips this evening Nave.

Now listen! – All with ears to hear,
The faintest voice but growing strong,
That sings a song to calm our fear,
And cancel all the debts of Wrong.

For in that voice a Power flows,
To free the captive – save the slave,
For faintly now a light that glows,
Restores the hope of weary brave.

And as the thousands join the song,
A shining fold full-fills their sight,
The Sun it glows with rays so strong,
That it could not be held by Night.

So off it threw its shackles far,
Exploding, burning pieces they,
Now watch the night, its surface marred,
By those bright stars, as some would say.

And as the wakened birds resound,
The trees now echo their reply,
Their Sun could ‘nere be kept or bound;
Free, its Hope shines full from on high.