The Faux Pas Press #175: Thank You, Laisse-Faire

 

Rushing out inclined upon descents of battle's gulf, entering dramatically the crossing of the soul's yearning for insertion, and upon my back I look at the starry sky emblazoned. Not warmth that I seek (though it is nice), not peaceful reclamations from those who know better than I, but this sky, this moment, convinced of ethereal powers moving through and for me, resigned to accept the Azure Will of Paradise - wherever it may be. Now, younger days found me excited for anything, seminary not an option, now my steal breathing, callings from a Wizard Race determined to initiate me.

Whistle to the sounds rushing out of the leaves, the forest melody laughing insanely to your ears, telling you that onward is the destination no matter how far you think you've come. Children you've mothered grown and called to serve a God you never knew. Clasped in his mighty hands, loving them more than you ever could. You're service now to millions who stand and wait. The millions of unborn minions of an angelic birth right and Prometheus wit. Your sons enthroned in dirty, mud-shackled ideas but longed for by the Keeper of Starry Realms. To surrender now - not to your perception of righteousness nor your fantasy of union. But rather you're own death on the Altar of Grace. Paid for, signed, sealed, and token by His blood alone. No amount of weight lost nor calls from the Ether can pay for the fate you've longed to possess. Not now, not ever. When my money was gone and I was drunk as hell. He knew me and called me with a holy calling from before the beginning of the World.

But I repay, Oh Women of Her Own Clothing, Oh Priestess of Eve's Funny Cap, Oh Matron of Yesteryear, the actions fiery darts that I've paid you. A thousand tomorrows won't make it right. One more embrace for this life's experience. And Laissez-Faire wishes saying, "That if you just realize what I just realized, not making him more nor less than what he is. He is more than you've taught me. The greatest force permeating through all of time and known human experience."

Finding the Christ half-way across the desert means going onward. I know you've known that terminology. Going onward and onward and onward. Following closely behind - he will tell you much more than you've allowed him to tell you. As for me, I will see you at the end of the Fold of the Fabric of Night. I will meet you half-way too. Exerting myself to the bones. Upon every night's approach echo prayers, cries, and chants for your victory.