The night the stars fell on November 12, 1833, was accredited to science and named Leonid. Ironically, the nomenclature of science is accredited to the Word that was in-the-beginning. Oh, such is the pride of man when we cannot explain such awe.

“There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for star differs from star in glory.” 1 Corinthians 15:41

The Weight of Glory

“At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in.”

"There will be a time when the weight of glory will shatter the pull of gravity…when we put on this, ‘greater glory’, we will know fully that the nature we’re now living through is only the first sketch." – C.S. Lewis

The Night the Stars Fell

A November night in 1833 quietly released the secrets of the sky.
The stars that fell held the ancient prophecy of the Lion who overcomes. 
In his mercy, he restrains the weight of Leonid's glory. 
For us to behold such splendour, he knows we must ready on our knees.

Heaven's fire balls reveal the hidden glory of the inner glory created in-the-beginning. 
A baptism of fire awaits Eden's beautiful ones, to create anew. 
Longingly, I whisper a cry of lament, to behold a small glimpse of such splendour,

Holy Holy Holy 
Purify my heart Oh Lord, to be worthy to receive your baptism of fire.
Purify my eyes to see the hallowed blue incense hidden in your glory.
Purify my ears to hear the song you scored in the stars,
and purify my mouth to utter praise in awe of your glory.

In your mercy, pull back the veiled pride within, 
On bended knee, remove the burden I carry so I can fully behold the weight of your glory. 
Whisper your Ephaetha, and open my spirit to clearly hear your song of the night.

Awaken me in your dreams to see the fullness of your Leonid choir, 
and with outstretched arms, release my lips in a song of praise. 

In chorus with the stars you both named and know by name, 
let us sing our doxology of praise to both the Lion and the Lamb, 'Holy, Holy, Holy' 


#beholdlisten

Leonid will once again fall in the fullness of splendour and the glory of The Lion of Judah will overcome, and a new song will be birthed.

“While the morning stars sang together, all the sons of God sang for joy.” – Job 38:7

“The Birds of Heaven, sing among the branches.” – Psalm 104

Amidst the bones, I pause to listen to the tree's heartsong. 
Her branches cradle the home of the songbird  
who sings to heaven,
indifferent to the wide-eyed gawk and bark that hover below.

The seasons change, and the wind carries the flame 
igniting the nest's chlorophyll. 
The ruah flame sparks the melody
and lights the leaves with the fired colour.

In the surround sound of the cathedral beams
I behold the beauty of the blue, 
hidden deep within the wood's womb 
and listen to his whispered song,
in chorus with the soprano wind and the alto leaves.

The home of the songbird
magnifies the creator’s splendour and echoes the psithurism hymn. 
In harmony with his home, 
he whispers his homily to the beautiful one, 
who painted him from within his wings to reflect the holy blue hue.

The breath that imprinted score in the blue bird
releases the benediction:
‘Holy Holy Holy’

 I behold the deep beauty of Cyanocitta Cristata 
who was painted blue with light from within. 
 With thanksgiving I listen to his whisper song
'Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus'

His song awakens those who slumber,
Ruah awakens the sound of the bones to a standing ovation.
The army of dry bones rattle in the wind 
and in one breath the bones whisper , 'Selah'

- I bow in honour to the blue symphony and whisper, 'Amen'

#beholdlisten

The Blue Jay vocalization is the “whisper song” 

“The evocative sounds created by the wind flowing through trees” – psithurism

Although blue jays are widely recognized by their bright blue colour, they are (surprisingly) not actually blue. Their bright blue plumage is the result of a unique inner wing structure that distorts the way light is reflected; making them appear blue.

“So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak.” – Genesis 32:24

Wrestling with God

Alone, I wrestle
I don't need God, to do battle 

Wounded, I bleed on the ground in the dirt
from the very mud I sling

My heart's agony bleeds for the bloodshed from one small incision
blood stained hands drip with the Ephesians 6 principalities I know not 
But they know me intimately 

They strike at tarnished armour, and know how to wound
pride 
jealousy
self-rightousness 
lanced peace is the final blow of defeat

the Screwtape Letters next chapter is complete
the demons laugh with glee 
as Lewis sadly shakes his head
another one bites the dust 

Dead in the darkness
too weary to wrestle 
with the only one 
who can heal

Hidden from the hands that spar
The scarred hands that fashioned my own 
dejected, I  limp away in the darkness 
but the humble light from holy hands insist on guiding me home

"I will not let you go until I bless you!"

Not how the story goes 
but the author knows the Truth of his own story
so He can write the final chapter 
any way he damn well pleases

The day light consecrates the darkness and He blesses
undeserving, he empathizes with the limp I carry
The Peniel wound stays 
to forever remind me of the face 
that both blesses and forgives

part 2 - to be continued

“When he reached a certain place, he stopped for the night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down to sleep. He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” – Genesis 28:11-12