Spiritual Nourishment
Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
29 Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
Matthew 11: 28-29
Spiritual Poetry: The Call
Come, come to me, He invitingly shared.
Plainly served with thorough bright.
In ancient paste, some jumped out with hands and eyes wide open in vain contest, asking to what do we need?
To what acclaim could any be?
Then calmly, the letter of intent was sent to aid.
This reminded all of the identity and reality of life.
This gesture was in semblance to nature’s post.
The consistent appeal to conscience of creation, to always revive distinction in the ambiance of clear respect.
Where did this past mix absorb the rallies of despair?
Where did it castigate the senses of prudence with raw contempt?
Then the message could no longer wait to the blistering tides.
The urge to recreate the narrow edges, could no longer linger in laxity taste.
The will to restore the beauties of courage and passion for love, had to move daring the clouds of curtail.
This was more than a journey but the presence of purified face.
The presence, if any cares is the invitation to identify consciousness with life of main.
This presence carries eternity in clarity and spine.
Was this a wake up call, or just the measuring time duly instigated into human souls?
By whom and to who, is the debate in life of the gentle immortal soul of love to live.
Who cares and dares to seek, not to find?
Hope and truth are the prods in motions entail to serve.
This is the letter sent into humanity’s soul for lively store.
Maybe not an invitation, maybe not a call.
Maybe is without, but the tale invested in this, is life will not move without this score.
Life will not see without this sure.
Life cannot call anything and respond, without this pulse.
Come again, He did proclaim, listening to distrust in societal decay.
Gleaming to life esteem has given us hope.
On this some turned with polished smiles.
Pleasurably, picked-up the letter to spread its thoughtful weight.
Thus, making the vision to life is attained in priceless way.
This is the path open for all to only stay.
Come, come is life we care to claim.
This would earnestly flourish in the eternal veins of time.
The joyous reign, who calls in broad prevail.