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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The winter of our discontent is over, the Merciful God of the oppressed has seen to the de-icing of our hued souls; and the blossoming essence of our liberation. The grapes of spring are plentiful and the heat of the sun is upon them but they must not be allowed to become like raisins wrinkled in the winds of time. Hued grapes of wrath they are; plump and ripe; their juices ready for the fermenting of sweet freedom of man-child children in the promised land. Today the purpose of our purple color comes full circle as new vines rise with their eyes watching God—singing songs of Solomon with spring rain voices:- Today’s spring harvest will yield new seeds germinating fruits—infused and immune to fungal white-washing and viral deceit. It's spring time and lush ripe Lenten grapes wait to be as fine wine in the season of new life—discerning and understanding the thirst of the historical season they are in. Yes, those that are young may grow weak, but the Elders are the tilted Nile Crescent soils to nourish them to purpose—that…“ they will rise on wings like eagles…run and not get weary… [that]...they...[may]...walk and not grow weak.” Oh, the Elders have climbed the watchtower of the struggle, and have seen the lightning and heard the thundering echoes—giving answers to their weathering complaints. Today’s spring harvest is indeed plentiful; and we few reapers must get to reaping What is to come will no longer seem slow, but will surely come and be true in due season. Indeed the resurrection of us and whose we are, will certainly take place and it will not be delayed. Sage village reapers, let us be mindful, trustful, and true to our testament of hope: “To have faith is to be sure of things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see...”; faith brings the harvest, and the reapers must surly rejoice and be glad in it all:-
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