In the need to believe in miracles and to feel them for their true worth comes the best quenching session ever. In the slumber of my thoughts, I had bit my lips with a teeth-thrust misled in ecstasy and even in the ridge of my expectations, I found my reward bitter; the pleasure was bitter and I found it lurking within my tongue like liquor to foetus.
The best miracles are lain waste to our renaissance at times; best concealed in lists of preference: The gift of life, the rise of the sun, the rise of His Son, the theft of grace; the apathy of inventions, pain and holy anger, the warmth of the eyes, the cage of the flesh and all the weakness to be spared still; even the remembrance of redemption and the creation of salvation before sin. Yet in all these, it is love that is the spine and to me, the greatest of them all is the glee of forgiven sins.
Not to dismiss the filth of human weakness or the aperture of temptation, the goal of a sinner is to define sin long enough to own it or overcome it. Above, was how I described the sin worth overcoming. The bitter sexuality of a dark corridor and the absence of the holy reckoning. At times, we are our own slumber and the spirit is not awakened. Invariably, sin becomes a caretaker and lies in the bounty of the heart’s wealth. It is the grease to the royal gold-crown. It is a playmate of a geese and one without the knowledge of God (no matter how acclaimed)
My thoughts sum themselves up. Sin is a fouler only if it is admitted to play and with the best humour in reverse. Stealing from life and after-life. It is a loan which you cannot pay by simply – and by that i mean only – working for a wage. It is grace we need to accompany our work or walk to eternity. It is faith that makes the equation of actions complete. Nevertheless, as a brother rightly informed me, grace cannot be earned simply by the flesh unreserved. Grace is the bonanza on a feathered justice and on the palm of history.
So in the best moment of chewing and warring among members, in a wilderness or in a dark corridor, in the year of the lord or in the time of the steel age, my soul ascends to testify that the power of sin was captured only to regain itself when we, sinners, give it to him. In the absence of which there is no actual sin unto man and self.