Featured art by Amy Ballinger. Click title image to visit her studio.
Redemption of the Blind Apostle charts the pilgrimage of a faithful man, owed not to scriptured religion or other man-made doctrine, but to the original fire within.
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Florence + The Machine “Blinding (Instrumental)”
even though he walked through the valley of the shadow of death
he feared no evil
for no devilry undressed his parting breath
deceitful was the air declared midst throes of upheaval
the rose red river bled as he approached the marble steps of the cathedral
no rod or staff had comforted
encouraged him to thread the eye of needle
yet something unsought lent him cause to venture forth, scale walls and climb the steeple
deathwatch beetles scuttled at his feet as bleak mists muttered of subjection
such had history of bidding he succumb to livid misdirection
sectioned for beliefs that stood at odds against the scripture of the god who oddly misconceived redemption
every word concurred of passive capture of aggression
thus deferred the rapture of the sacred grounds abound with fractured blessing
bleeding from the eyes reprised the pain of each forsaken life
teardrops stained the shadows in a bid to reawaken light
stricken blind, remained confined to unknown declaration signed
still his sight remained aligned to elevated plane inclined
for he had learned to read between the lines and bleed according to the wisdom fresh perspective thus afforded
knew he was a faithful man
great heart imparted such
yet he expressed each sense no feel of parliamentary touch
so much to bear upon meek shoulders
rusted chains in league with boulders
freedom was a state of mind of which the good book disinclined
annuled by age old lies confined to centuries of weathered spine
even though he ventured through the valley of the shadow of death and through the never on this night
he did so ever tethered to the light
and thus, felt no affright
to sever bind and climb the spire
savour the original fire
aflame and e’er enduring
reawakened sight and mind
no vantage left obscuring
he could see for miles and miles
free of trial and steep in flight
reminded day became of deepest night
that the kingdom and glory is thine
should divine be intervention
parting breath then bid recline
and the blind apostle smiled
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill
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Another well-round revision and damn it i’m running out words, yes me.
What can I say, this journey you’ve taken is to be highly admired for most of us don’t like to look back but know that sometimes it is a necessary evil to grow and reinvent ourselves as needed.
Bravo once again.Well done and I’m smiling in admiration.
Very helpful information. Lucky me I discovered your web site accidentally, I bookmarked it.
Words flow from you like a damn fountain. Every time I hear someone say, “Stephen King’s so prolific” I scoff.
The cool thing is that you embrace storytelling like few do.
Keep it true Grue, Keeper!