come togather

Reached end of rope. There is no possible way to go from here but into christ. Why?

We come into this world alone. Spend some time together. Good times and some bad. Everything seems to have disappeared down river, the faces are different. People we used to know, gone.

Our mothers and fathers faded memory. We have to re invent ourselves by the travails and vissitudes, and adapt. Faint whispers behind our back.

There are so many isms, so much ill distributed feelings scattered as in per chance here, and here, and there. And then you are gone and I am left standing there making the best of it.

The dust is what’s left of your memory. Who will cry for you. Realising this you start dying so that thought will not bring it on.

Then the zen master points to faint breezes and moonlit scapes in total silence, the cold steel blue may not predict tomorrow’s noisy streets, it may drop again into eternity as it did yesteryear or the one before it when you used to know.

Hold on! Can you as god visualise every smiling child in the dawn of eternal hope, as they lay after all, in a total misery seeking someone to put their hands upon their bereft and wounded countenance as they die there? Can you be with them without becoming the something which is the nothingness deep within?

Can you just not feel Christ then and there as if time did not matter at all and you were there, always and everywhere as the all to all the death and hopelessness?

This is what truly delivers, and minute by minute reaffirmation needed, so as to remind yourself nothing ever matters? And this really, ultimately the only way, there is nothing else in this minute span of time, except the eternity of that promise.

And then, peace comes, inside ,deep within.

Ultimately, there really is no other way.