Faith

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All that I am

In an irreverent hole I find myself
A discovery of appalling sarcasm
Deplorable suspicion of what I am
Absent hope of what I am not
Have I merely misplaced my identity?
Or has it simply never been unearthed?

Vague is the haze that inhabits my form
A forlorn location of unformed character
An abandoned condition of all that has misled me
My desirer has found success
And as such
The logic of reason has avoided me

Truth remains illicit in my elected humanity
Within this untold world
And why should it not?
It has no agreement with darkness
It restrains no illusion of relativity
Absolute in character, I have rejected its offered unity
Its oneness
Life in fundamental nature
The very essence of to be

I cry out but my voice remains determined to stay silent within me
I reach up but the hole is too deep
The dark is too thick
The walls are too steep
All that I am pleads for establishment
Silent and unsure in its petition

Through hushed solicitation intended of origin
I beseech more than I
I implore commencement
An unspoken inauguration from living to being
Remaining
Never-ending

Let me now reveal that which I willingly barter
Supplication for cause
A simple request for clarity
And what of it?
An unvoiced retort left unaided to be interpreted
Not even!
Less than what I have I am now left with
I lack greater than that which I encompass
If only for reason of all that escapes me

And what dare I assert that to be?
To be known implies discernment held by another
To be fully known does not denote the adoration of reflected occupation
It does not indicate replication by way of completeness
Nor will it ever
To be fully known dictates one acquainted with certainty
And how can a simple element of consciousness as myself make such a demand

Recognition relies not on doubt
Not in reservation
Despite obvious hesitation
Altered is my observation
Skewed is my structure
Until anything but truth sparks my awareness
consciousness is not limited
But stifled by ignorance

For perception is the vantage point of discerned reality
Yet in what does discernment contend?
Would not dependence upon what is greater than I be my acumen
Should i not stand upon that precipice?
Still I remain so distant from the summit of what is real
The reality of truth is that truth is the only real

And it stands unaided
Unaccompanied
And in full agreement with itself
In absolute accord
Otherwise ambiguous and contradictory of its own definition would it be

Yet
As it is
It subsists in harmony
With blood
Beside water
Within Spirit
The mystery of God is the Son
The riches of that mystery is Christ in you

Because of this inherency
I do more than glimpse
I gaze upon essence that invokes my will to choose
And choice is to deny my will for that of another
Intrinsic motivation toward submission

Only in Love is this possible
Only with Love can this be known
Through Spirit
I do realize
I,
Since blind
Do now see in Him
All that I am

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