Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Lent: Froze like bricks in evening winter nights south of cleaveland. I'll wait in bitter snow and freezing weather. As the veins in my skin tether me to Spirit somewhere moving deep inside, all around. The death of my own destruction is all You've promised me. Death in cold or burning fire Martyrs made candle-like once again. Calling forth Your roar and aching silence.