Anomaly:

Yield to break sky morning and the mourn-less death of in-between. Two halves of mystery come rush to me and yell their lofty independence.
Time is our great anomaly, or is it grace? Sovereignty and creature free[dom] wash over, and indeed dash my rhyme scheme, for even this is wanting.
Truth descends, ascends, breaks, bleeds and calls us forth. Calls us forth to respond in adoration and abounding life.
Sovereign/Free; anomalies and truth tied beyond contradiction. Beyond my pale mind's surmising, but blazing forth and setting feet to walk the way of Christ.

Yield, and I am yielding but not to You. Not as I should.
Shrouded and fogged, my dreams remain stretched out before me to the unseen.
I must be undone; for only here in great undoing is the done-ness of life complete.

Were that I am fit to wander, but this was never so.
Send me, go, where Your Spirit sounds my trumpet call.

I'll be calling, asking, seeking, knocking and You say finding is not far behind,
but it lies beyond me still.
And I plod, continue, wander my inward halls towards where the windward one might yell.
Clear as day and church bells ringing, I'll rise to heady highlands.

Singing clear as day with night behind me.