A master view of humanity's struggles and triumphs, seen through the lens of eternal hope.
(Listen until the end for special bonus commentary.)
A master view shows you a
season of divinity, family and all - Trinitytide.
Forces of malignant ends bend then spread as if once teetering next tumbling from a tri-angled Trinity-tide pulled base.
I see them all: the cigaretted tongue confessing truths on the corner,
lovers lie embedded in secret towns while sweet syruped breakfast burns,
face-turning wine - jerky red - finds the eyes of a minor pushed by online streams,
an eldress vocalizes briny pickled prayers cleansing as congregation raptly stares,
steps of a man in short sleeves leave salt-dotted white wambles, gambling an ascending optimism.
That’s what I have - hope, forever-he-won.
The season of storms’ duration will sweep by.
From elemental destruction, shafts of brightness fall through in renew.
