So …

  Listen carefully to the sound of your own heart beating. The sky around you is darkening. The mares of night race through the dusty streets. You are in this moment the Prodigal son returning home. It has been years since you last saw the starry skies over your birthplace. The streets are unwelcoming. Those who pass by gaze upon you with disgust. Why not? After all you are clad in the entrails of pigs. You reek of vomit and your disheveled hair is crowned with sores. Listen. Do not let this moment pass you by. Latch on to the feeling. For there is a lump in your throat. The men drag you to the center of the market. Their hands mean and fierce make no attempt to cover your nakedness. Who are you? Not the lowly tavern wench. You are not even the local harlot, but you are a mother caught in a minute of indiscretion with another. They drag you

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Oluwadolapo

You will read this because you must. You will read this and watch as the eye of your understanding is freed from the rust. You will read this and indeed you will trust. For this has been quarried from Zion’s crust.  The deep of the sea is nothing compared to the depths of His Love for me.  Selah – Damilare ENJOY Let me tell you this: how I was a wretch, wandering the wastelands of my own existence. Tensed, bound by the brokenness and bitterness of self. How I wallowed in woes, worry and wormholes, till my life was stripped of wonder and all I could see was shortcut into void and chaos. If I could I would ask you to spare a minute just to listen to the melody of the nadir.    Between the soul-wrenching yelps of the demon cur and the lustful clamor of the debauchee I found myself making petitions to gods I had forged after my

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To Yahweh

Dear Daddy First of all … I call you Daddy because you are my Father. Though many are ignorant of their Genesis, I revel in the Revelation of You as my Source. They put on their blue jeans, “fly” their collars in arrogance and forget the origin of their genes – but I won’t forget my creator. Some might think I am merely pontificating or attempting to appear like one with a speed dial to Heaven. In the ravishing romance of Romans Paul calls you ABBA. This is no counterfeit affection, no shabby attire traded on the streets of Aba. YOU are my DADDY. I am Charmed by your Majesty. My Spirit resonates with your Sweet Spirit. There is a collision of YOUR Divinity and my humanity. I yearn for more of YOU. Length of days are worthless without YOU, my El HANNORA (Awesome God). The night stars exude your glory. Just as the Jews on their Exodus from Egypt, they extol your

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Out of the Boat

Love is fear’s bane. He that walks in love walks perfectly for his walk is neither hampered by doubt nor is it fettered by fear. He dares to walk where Angels dread. He dares to walk in the valley of death’s shadow for he brings life and hope to those cast off as dead. Jesus walked in perfect Love and neither the laws of physics nor human nature could shackle him. On the raging Galilean sea he marched triumphantly seemingly oblivious to the tumultuous waves and harsh winds. He walked with the poise of one infinitely greater than the combined military forces of salty sea and sultry winds. Above the storms he walked unperturbed, bringing to the remembrance of the waters that it was He who formed them through the simplicity of his word, that it was He who restrained them with borders no one has ever seen. He walked on the seas and behold this sight was foreign to

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