CommUnity.
trying to follow
fortune's kiss.
but curses have a franchise.
faces faces faces
yours.
cafeteria is a theater.
heart stops.
GOD!
supplanted by chaos.
networked by chance.
waking up to noise.
eats what he can
to get by.
this city
doesn't exist.
i don't exist.
i climbed the mountain
was struck down
by the Law of Moses.
"you shall not enter the
promised land."
in the face of your glory
I don't exist.
and yet YOU say I do.
the individual
has a face.
faces faces faces.
yours.
the complexity of individuality!
it shouts to be heard
forming
com promise what you want.
m utter no bitterness.
u nderstand the other person.
n otice the unnoticed.
n ever forget need.
i ntroduce yourself, raw.
t ake two days to mourn.
y. ours is the kingdom.
smile in public
weep in private. see letter i.
laugh on the phone
chuckle in person. see letter i.
look lonely on the lake
look little in the load. see letter i.
double over in dorm.
sleep if conscience permits. see letter i.
bleeding light came down the mountain
and invaded the self.
and now I see.
a million orbs
each their own color.
he who has ears....
listen:
this city exists.
I exist. C.
In the face of your glory, OMM
you made it so. UNITY.
faces faces faces
yours.
faces without names.
that's the problem.
you have never seen me.
I have never seen you.
in the face of this frustration
i do not exist.
modernity says "no soul."
postmodernity says "all soul."
my bible says "one being."
you and i are instrumentation.
communing piano keys.
but!
self effort is like a piano key
trying to play itself.
silence.
a world effort is like a whole piano
trying to play itself.
silence.
will we now welcome our Pianist again?
he to play each note in its own time.
If He comes back
I can see you again.
and you can see me again.
If we let Him to his throne
I can look beneath the ivory.
beneath the black.
and hear our music like it played
in the garden of our love.
in the river of our friendship.
Play on, Master.
We are the chorus the Composer called
His Cloud of Witnesses.
His CommUnity.
without you, O Lord, we are waiting piano keys. How you are longing to make us into the instrumentation we once were!
The Great Dance, the Symphony of Antiquity, is rumored to have restarted her prologue.
A failed man I may be, but blessed be He who chooses sinners like me to express music for eternity. let it be. let it be. CommUnity.
ffffffffffffooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggeeeeeeeeetttttttttttttttttttttttt
aaaaaaaaabbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutttttttttttttttttttttt
yyyyyyyyyyyooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssssseeeeeeeellllllllllfffffffffffffffffffff
fortune's kiss.
but curses have a franchise.
faces faces faces
yours.
cafeteria is a theater.
heart stops.
GOD!
supplanted by chaos.
networked by chance.
waking up to noise.
eats what he can
to get by.
this city
doesn't exist.
i don't exist.
i climbed the mountain
was struck down
by the Law of Moses.
"you shall not enter the
promised land."
in the face of your glory
I don't exist.
and yet YOU say I do.
the individual
has a face.
faces faces faces.
yours.
the complexity of individuality!
it shouts to be heard
forming
com promise what you want.
m utter no bitterness.
u nderstand the other person.
n otice the unnoticed.
n ever forget need.
i ntroduce yourself, raw.
t ake two days to mourn.
y. ours is the kingdom.
smile in public
weep in private. see letter i.
laugh on the phone
chuckle in person. see letter i.
look lonely on the lake
look little in the load. see letter i.
double over in dorm.
sleep if conscience permits. see letter i.
bleeding light came down the mountain
and invaded the self.
and now I see.
a million orbs
each their own color.
he who has ears....
listen:
this city exists.
I exist. C.
In the face of your glory, OMM
you made it so. UNITY.
faces faces faces
yours.
faces without names.
that's the problem.
you have never seen me.
I have never seen you.
in the face of this frustration
i do not exist.
modernity says "no soul."
postmodernity says "all soul."
my bible says "one being."
you and i are instrumentation.
communing piano keys.
but!
self effort is like a piano key
trying to play itself.
silence.
a world effort is like a whole piano
trying to play itself.
silence.
will we now welcome our Pianist again?
he to play each note in its own time.
If He comes back
I can see you again.
and you can see me again.
If we let Him to his throne
I can look beneath the ivory.
beneath the black.
and hear our music like it played
in the garden of our love.
in the river of our friendship.
Play on, Master.
We are the chorus the Composer called
His Cloud of Witnesses.
His CommUnity.
without you, O Lord, we are waiting piano keys. How you are longing to make us into the instrumentation we once were!
The Great Dance, the Symphony of Antiquity, is rumored to have restarted her prologue.
A failed man I may be, but blessed be He who chooses sinners like me to express music for eternity. let it be. let it be. CommUnity.
ffffffffffffooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggeeeeeeeeetttttttttttttttttttttttt
aaaaaaaaabbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutttttttttttttttttttttt
yyyyyyyyyyyooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssssseeeeeeeellllllllllfffffffffffffffffffff
fear
and
feeling
are
no
way
to
run
your
uni
verse.
that
path
will
only
lead
you
down
into
the
postmodern
pit
of
depression.
d
o
w
n
but when you hit the ground
don't stay there.
He is there too.
will you keep going with me?
I know it's been a long journey, and I'm certain you're tired.
Yeah, I know. I've done a lot of rotten stuff too, but we'll make it out of here, okay?
What say we help each other, you and me?
Will you go on a journey with me?
Forget about what might be at the top.
We can't stay here.
That much is obvious.
s
p
a
c
e
&
t
i
m
e
p
a
c
e
&
t
i
m
e
funny how you don't realize how good you've got it until the air conditioner quits working.
or how beautiful a shoulder is until it's sore from lifting weights.
that is funny.
thanksgiving works.
cross the river of your fears. it is not too cold or too deep.
we're almost back up to the surface.
almost back up to the beginning again.
almost back up where we can
see each other's true faces again.
no more voices in the dark.
no more scamming through the screens
of our iPhones.
thought maybe we could dance to some real music again.
thought maybe we could start letting God define us now
instead of us defining him.
as far as that goes,
thought I could start thinking about you
instead of thinking about me.
what a trick that is,
thinking about yourself like it's a virtue.
introspection is the invention
of romanticism, and her offspring is postmodern flux.
and it's everywhere.
time to stop all that.
here we are.
back at the top.
back in the cafeteria full of faces.
faces faces faces.
Yours.
heart beats faster.
GOD!
Told you He was there.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtlgYxa6BMU
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