Something stiring…

Here I come steady stable and without quiver, cutting quick to the bone and marrow, slipping by soul and Spirit… Revealing strong Majesty in stance of light stretching as though a tree of might, muscling the gratitude of such Grace made by the blood and tears of our sorrows on earth; heard as one child, with one voice, one heart that bleeds the blood of all nations!
“Wake up all that is in me,” is the zealous joyful shout of confidence this one gives even to oneself!
So, it is clear were one belongs in the posture of receiving the flood gates of Heaven: Humble, but with pride and vertue.
Marching on thru every creek, river and misty mountain pass!
The drum of the first drummer and the drum of the last drummer are played by the same hands all the way thru and thru!!!


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