Who is the author? Where is the poet? Who will sing for us, when our voices grow soft? For life is extraordinary and fleeting . That we are living is a miracle alone. That we are dying is also a myth and a legend. So, the Prophet has said, And for this the Proph et ble d; That the unclean might be silenced, That truth will out the lies, That every promise ever made by the Lord of all our days May be fulfilled in the eyes of our sons and our daughters. Isn’t this what we hope for? That our loves will live and die P ursuing something greater than you and me ? What then do we pursue, and what have we been given? What do we pursue like jaguars , Like hungry cats; Like the patient sloth , Like the prisoner without pardon? No. No, no! We are free! There ar e no false Gods, save those in our leisure , Save those that set themselves up as centers of value , Save the powers to which we acqui...
Sermons, random thoughts, and general musings are what you will find here. Sometimes a faithful question may appear, for faith is not an end but rather a beginning, and it is in seeking that we find.