On the inaccessible peak,
There must be flowers—
Soft as whispers, bright as stars,
Untouched by earthly hours.
No hand may pluck their Grace,
No foot may mar their place—
On the inaccessible peak,
There must be flowers.
Oh, the seekers come and go,
Clutching truths they’ll never know—
But the summit, cold and deep,
Guards its bloom in sacred sleep.
Veils of mist obscure the climb,
Fate selects the few to find.
What is pure will not be seen,
By the eyes that crowd between.
On the inaccessible peak, there must be flowers,
White as the dawn, untouched by hours.
No voice to name them, no step to mar,
They gleam like vows on heights afar.
On the inaccessible peak,
There must be flowers—
Untouched by the seekers who climb,
Unspoiled by hours.
Where no voice calls,
And no foot treads at all,
On the inaccessible peak,
There must be flowers.
And if one soul, by Grace, should rise,
They’ll find the bloom… with chastened eyes.
They kneel in the temple of silence,
Where echoes dare not break the air—
The chosen, the cold, and the blameless,
Alone are permitted there.
The button has not worked for three months.
Someone filed the plan.
Someone approved the form.
Someone put up the sign and called it done.
Not done.
We know the ramp.
We know the sky above it
the same sky you called beautiful the day you cut the ribbon,
the day the photographs were taken.
We built our day around the sign's promise.
We got here.
The door did not open.
There is a number to call
we have called it.
A form to fill
we have filled it.
A ticket number rusting in a queue behind things more urgent than a door that will not open.
More urgent than this?
A promise is not a plan.
Not a ribbon,
not a form,
not a ticket number rusting in a queue.
A promise is a door that opens.
Fix it.
Not once, for the photograph.
On the Tuesday no one watches,
with the toolkit,
with the person who comes back,
because someone will be here tomorrow who needs this to work.
Beauty is not the opening day.
It is the maintenance.
The fixing.
Again.
And again.
For as long as people need to cross.
“Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
in light inaccessible hid from our eyes”
quote from the hymn by Walter Smith (1867)
Light Inaccessible …
is wisdom without origin
can be known when faith
breaks the dawn with insight
This Light without space...
is seen without the use of eyes
is felt minus human hands
is heard though one has no ears
Spark that sharpens my light….
shining from the highest height
shining through the longest day
shining beyond my deepest pain
Immortal, invisible, very God and very man…
misunderstood and incomprehensible
is servant-hood, unworldly
for all things good, trustworthy
This Light without time...
Creator, man is made in His image
Redeemer of all surrendered souls
Eternal King coming to rule the Earth
Facebook To Be Inaccessible on Three Dates
By Elton Camp
This ghastly news with your friends do share
For about this outrage, I am certain you care
Because Facebook is where my friends reside
To be deprived of their association, I can’t abide
On those dates, my status I cannot update
This is a prospect that I thoroughly hate
And it will be about certain to drive me wild
That I can’t post another picture of my child
The wonderful things my precious dog does do
To share on those awful dates I must eschew
Plus, I really expect that it is gonna make me ill
When I can’t invite any others to play Farmville
Inane quotes it’ll be impossible for me to share
For on those terrible dates, Facebook isn’t there
Due to its drastic impact on the entire nation
There should be a congressional investigation
Dates Facebook is unavailable are listed below
As this is information everyone should know
On these dates, there’s no Facebook, so no fun
February twenty-nine, thirty and thirty-one
Those distant skies, those distant smiles
Never came near me, were never in my hand
All it was just to show that they are with me
Things were never okay they wern't bland
Those far off days, those beautiful sun rays
Are never seen on this bay, never brings happness any day
All what was did to me was betrayal
It never used to be merry here, all it was in a melancholy
Those remote heavens, those never heard ravens
Never were a part of my life, never was a rife
All what i faced was darkened storms
Even in these circumstances i find no one by my side
Those inaccessible happiness, those newly planted love cress
Never was resting in my arms, never was a part of my charms
All i wished for was just tiny bits of love
Hope it returns back soon and not make me rest in heavenly arms
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