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Poem

How over powering are the sun beams making up the illumines  configuration of the blinds
that try so hard to withstand them. I experience the presence of their warm inviting bliss
every moment the mountains release their vibrant prisoner. But why is it that we so try to
push  back the sun with draw string and axel? Are we guilty with dark in fear that the sun
would over shout our sins and judge us till our faces burn with rosy red its anger of our
nakedness? 
	How God he tries every morning, every benevolent wake of morning to illuminate us with
the warmth of his impeccable light. And oh how sad how dreary we pull back the blinds
grossly jubilant with the dark that stretches like blankets to fit our broken homes. Oh
must He be judged the way we fear that He would judge us? How deviated, misguided are we. 
	So let me ask, what were to happen if we were to burst open the blinds - rip them tear
them tangle them into a mangled mess?
What if we opened the rusted pane, kept bold for the presence of God?
How warm would our homes be, how inviting would our lives be for God, how anxious we would
be for morning's wake.
	So how, I find my self asking, can I begin to rip away the shield that kept me hidden for
so long?
	How can one remove the nails that kept into the wall?
How can one trust to be caught if they're too scared to fall? Its no secret, no puzzled test.
Put your doubt to rest. No need for flesh hands to worry about the pain. God will help you
rip the blinds from the window pane. That's his promise in the blood that the nails
themselves pierced to wood. And where are those nails now? Lost within the sands of this
earth, along with the blinds and the darkness and the sin we stained our hearts in.
	Love is all in. So lets do the same for God.

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