Alone
Sitting in the garden alone, the fragrance of each rose pedal enhance’s the mind and comforts the heart. Resting from a long day man thinks and too believe’s, all is well with his soul.
Gazing across the high mountains, the warm sun slowly disappears into her set, as she whisper’s good night.
The rocks soon cool as darkness will block the path home. In this place peace and solace seem to live continually and share with all who come and sit.
Here if one listen’s the whispers of God can easily be heard.
“Do you Believe?”
As a soul so easily can comfort itself in creation can also so easily reject the creator.
The soul warms itself in the setting sun and it the dew of the morning, embrace the fragrance’s of the gardens.
My whisper they do not hear.
My wind that blows fearcely and my lightning that cracks, to them it is amiss.
I called
and they did not answer. The river of peace that attends the soul, they know not.
Do they not care?
Why do they turn their heads; to love creation and enjoy the smells and the warmth of the day and reject the creator?
Do they not know heaven is my throne and earth my footstool? That all these things hath mine hand mad. To this man will I look.
When I speak they do not hear. Do they not know this is evil done before my eyes; they cast out what I love and accept what I abhor.
My peace they forfeit, for it flouishes the bones as herbs, my hand will be known to those that delight in my glory. When they heard of my fame why did they not rejoice?
Evenso they choose,
I will come with fire and with chariots. Like a whirlwind to render my anger and fury. I whispered but they chose to not hear. Therefore I rebuke in flames of fire. With a sword I plead with all flesh, but they seem deaf to my word.
A day
will come all things will be made anew. My glory will be declared, to my mountain all will come, names will remain and all flesh will worship. They shall go forth than, and
Look….
unto the carcasses that once sat in the garden alone, enhanced by my presence of fragrance. they that enbraced the setting of my sun and the glory of my mountains. Did not they see me? They chose to instead trangress against me, thinking only upon their thoughts and ways, I was ignored
I know you,
your worm does not die, neither shall your fire be quenched: You would not harken to my whisper, you do not believe.
A Prayer
I do not believe
I do not want to believe
“Lord help me not want, to not want to believe.”
Sincerely,
the one that sat in the garden alone and upon the rocks of your mountains and relished not your power…..
Isaiah 66 kjv
