Church of 1,000 hills

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Travel  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 15, 2018

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Submitted: August 15, 2018



If you had one gesture with your lips, One shake of the hand to give, Or one endearing caress of the flesh, Would you put your emotions aside?

If you had a foreseeable vision That brought you all the fires of hell And all the waters of the falls, Would you persuade the past to hide?

Your forcefield may be strong, But there must be something stronger. If only a blink, a day, a year Could stay a little longer.

The devil's energy is affecting the air you breathe, Clouding your sense of reality, Blocking your understanding of what another needs.

There's nothing to see through the radiance and the beauty, No evidence to suggest my head is defying gravity, No test I've taken implies my motives are rash. So why try to turn my fire into ash?

Whatever sells best is what people will believe. That's the single minded nature of the land of the free. One can only conceive Data that was provided through another lens, By those looking to afford a Mercedes Benz

Ebony and ivory live on a piano As blue and pink love on a color scheme. How is it we fail to realize Our hearts and desires collide to create a beautiful melody That radiates colors putting the Northern lights to shame?

Our first breaths do not define our years. A catastrophe does not leave an entire land painted crimson forever. The grace period never has time to prosper. Has there ever been a reckoning? The rhyming lyrics of history have created this longing. But as bones with shoes, we have lost our capability To conceptualize that dominoes of love have the potential to keep falling.

If 10,000 souls occupied one hill And the walkers of the earth worked With those spirits to cleanse their majesty, Will it be enough for one to fathom the sense of heaven on earth? These thousand peaks are the holy church That house the tired, the forgiven, and the hurt.

With artificial interactions, Sheltering factions, And waiting for the next attraction, We have become shells of humans, The personas we so desperately have tried to avoid.

All this back and forth with then and soon, Has it ever been a crime to think of now? Now, the moment we can shape our first step, The moment we can spread joy, The moment we can save a life, The moment when we don't have to think or jump ahead.

Dwindling on a thread that seems to have no end. The gasp for life seems too puzzling to comprehend. Yet, it is essential to abscond from the dead. The waters of clarity will flush out the dread And cut the binds of the infinite thread.

Bitter chapters find happy endings As long as you keep reading. Shades of black will find the light As long as you keep proceeding. The beggars will find themselves feasting And the ones who want will receive what they've been needing.

The cruelty of what cannot be touched again Or the anticipation of whether the pain will return and when Are seeds that should be buried in cement. The knowledge of where they reside could spring up curiosity. But instead of taking them out fully, take pieces of them to mold new seeds. Seeds sprouting resilience, love, and tranquility.

Bury them in the richest soil ever to house creation, Bathe them in the intensity of golden sensation, And nurture them with a glaciers' reproduction.

For this will sprout the tree of life, Able to sustain from disastrous stormy nights. Growing stronger with every gesture of the lips, Shake of the hand or caress of the flesh That love drives in.

Love is the force to obliterate any forcefield. Love is what can make a blink, a day, a year last longer. Love can clear the devil's air. Love ignites the fires of passion to flare. Love makes the thens and soons easier to bare. Love is what helps us find our way there.

Love is one that doesn't point a finger At anguish or rage, however long they linger. Love is never the one that pulls the trigger From the aftermath of something much bigger. Love does not drive a deadly ticker.

Love may be the deity But who is the Virgin Mary? Who is the one who can trek to Bethlehem And birth a miracle only angels can understand?

Love's nurturer has to be forgiveness, Who never blames a single soul. Who doesn't put a label on the devils and the saints. Who meshes the colors no matter how straight someone paints.

Forgive and Love, love and forgive. This is the philosophy on the way we should live. Love and forgiveness never stem from hate. They are the flowers and leaves In the tree of life we create.

As long as we love and as long as we forgive, We can discard the shells we have been cacooned in. There will be genuine interactions, No more factions, And there will be no need in search for the next attraction.

The now, the love, and the forgiven Will be our Magnum Opus. Not the past, the revenge, or the hate. Cleanse your air before it's too late Or a sealed up box could be your fate, Waiting to decay on a preconceived date.

Look around as if you will never again possess eyes. Listen to the wind dance around you. Soak your soul with its wonder. Keep exploring, don't ignore your hunger. Seek inspiration in the simplest of pleasures, The slumber of the sky or greener pastures.

Allow yourself to feel, however temporary it may last. Permit the ship in the bottle's sail to cast. What others deem insane, claim as your bravery. See through the straight lines of society's slavery. Become the philosopher composing an aura of harmonies.

Above anything else, Remember the Church of 1,000 Hills.

© Copyright 2018 Madeline Allard. All rights reserved.