Both are jealous. Neither will share.
Not one with the other. No treaty declared.
A war for a hostage who holds his own fate.
What God has entangled, he alone separates.
Yet patience endures what for now is entwined
To fashion from clay what becomes the divine.
random, happy picture to be less
depressing and cryptic
One flirts with your longing to be satisfied, then turns to sand in your mouth the moment the cup leaves your lips. It seduces your mind with whatever will keep it wandering further into the desert. It sleeps beside you like a lover but gives more loneliness than comfort. It torments your dreams and wakes you to disappointment. It fades to keep its welcome only to rush back into your chest like a vacuum that threatens to collapse your heart. It is the lust for more that destroys the soul not by violence but by one subtly refreshing gouge at a time.
One offers its whole self freely, yet inspires the greatest price. Its drink always satisfies yet causes you to crave the whole river. It is an incomparable force of progress yet it yields to the hearts of men. It is truth yet gracious to the ignorant, faithful yet pursues the faithless. It is a limitless and reasonable hope that changes nothing but the heart, yet through the heart it changes everything. It is the true alchemist. It is the Spirit of the living Christ shining ever brighter through every gouge that was meant to kill.
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