No matter how long you hide,
how low you lay,
how slow you tread through the honey of your destiny,
She’s got Her eye on you.
It’s not the beat of empire that moves the flow of Her Thunder.
You’ve cast your own bones into the fire
and now the scroll of life rolls through your marrow.
You are known.
Claimed by the Glory.
Its not up to you if She will strike but you have given up safety.
You’ve spent your life trading integrity for power.
Now powerlessness saves you.
You’ve lost your urgency.
You only seek Her now.
And so she starts the peekaboo.
Call out from the bottom and she will come.
She courts the destitute.
The pain of your longing cut to the chase and took up residence.
You offered yourself without a second thought because nothing less could remedy.
And nothing ever did.
The love that wounded you is the cure they said,
but you don't even want a cure anymore.
You are a blessed broken lunatic, content to be Her fool for good.
You have since stopped hiding and stalk the Danger.
You’ve glanced your own Beauty, and cannot unsee.
You find Her everywhere.
Do not wilt away from the Countenance.
Disclose your life and be available.
She will wield you in Her own time.
You have done the dance of self betrayal long enough to trust yourself the first time.
You’ve given up on shame. And certainty.
You try to welcome even the unbarable now.
To bare the truth is love.
The path is not compromise.
You cannot see Her and live anyhow.
No matter how slow you tread through the honey of your destiny,
Reality knows Her lovers.
I tilt my hat to all of you.
You know who you are.