Preaching Truth To Vagabonds

Transcending the narrow confines of my mortal epistemology Laying beyond the approach of conception or imagination You mold me, caress me, and nurture me So I can take celestial leaps of faith Vaulting myself to the stratosphere Incrementally immersing myself in your infinite absolution Redrawn outside the lines of finite rationality Glad tidings gush in my direction, as I unconditionally submit to you And in haste, I call upon my companions to tenderly surrender their members To give up their native endowments for your harvest But if every ear is not fit to hear the truth What good comes from preaching truth to vagabonds? What good comes from planting seeds on barren rock?