May 18, 2015

So Many Hopes

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So Many Hopes

What is this space that statically floats around the atmosphere? Where does the void appear, blinking and endless, full of fangs and shadows? What gives the darkness permission to permeate the minds of humanity?

We are not eager for our destruction. Voices call out. Around and around they swirl, covered in excuses to stay stagnant yet growing a desire to grasp at grace. To hear a sound that becomes a symphony, to see a drop of water churned into a sea. To touch Your face and find a beauty unparalleled.

Reaching limbs, longing to bud and bloom in a soil stirred by hands of healing. Eyes that stretch to the farthest lands to appraise what can be built upon a fruitful foundation. Floundering fancies, carried and disbanded through the wind, breaking apart a brittle search for strength.

So many hearts, ripping themselves out of their cages. So many hopes, waiting to be revealed. So many searching, seeking after the answers to fill the gaps inside their souls. So many walking about this earth, aimless and empty of life.

If You hear our plea, hurry to our side. Skies are draped with despair and the air is heavy and smoky in our lungs. We are a desperate people, pleasing the sins of our soul, chained in lies and carrying around the weight of weariness on our crooked shoulders. We slip closer to the edge, defying the quiet inside us to catapult into chaos. Strangers in our skin, we scratch to be released into something more comfortable, a craving carried back in the caverns of our core.

Revive us. Breathe beauty back into our lungs and color our world with Your palette. Sing to us with lyrics our minds long for. Rescue our hearts before they bleed into oblivion and fight for us.

Find us. Search the galaxy to bring us back and turn our truth to You. Tell us all we desire to hear, all we store sweetly in our cracking bones and aching arteries. Set our flesh to mold to Your loveliness and light. Lead us to the highest mountain we can climb to find Your face, to hold the favor of Who our singeing chests must burn for.

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