it hurts

[u/sa_matra]

and I keep on finding myself working on something

and hitting "I'm not supposed to work on this by myself"

I don't care how unrealistic it sounds

the garden is here waiting, and you are on sabbatical, which was a good choice

[u/attic-orator]

the word is PAIN, it's called daily bread:

"le pain du soleil," you say?

what's the same-difference? it's in the bouncing rays!

no pagan in cahoots with the devil am i; we don't worship no Sun-God Raw 'round here.

epiousios still means "of the essence," another enminded epic phenomena

of fireworks consisting of grace and forgiveness, if tele-therapy must!

so get out with your Egyptian slavery issues of madness, just as i left, and

prohibited ma'at to further light a blazing candle of truth in the dark to you, O divine one!

God, you are the only one left to tell me the truth, not Thoth, no thought of mine

have i to deceive and leave the web of wisdom you skillfully if thoroughly wrought....

& please check, or give us a break, o Lord, since you never fail

to yield protection for us, against the master of sin, as i am something forgettable and ail...

sinners all of the Absolute, of absolution, if such we should be:

Jesus Christ, do not let us in until we are ready to enter the entire point, you see.

we stay cheering in joy as they say: happy (next) Sunday, in some harmony!

at least, minimally, you announce to the world

a fount of deep happiness and sheer relief, the allowance of patience & mercy,

of echoing and ringing sonorously, with trumpeting going on & on, exclaiming

that it is permanently over, how this is the end, so shall you go, and just be free,

no clanging gong, no cymbal, no ancient Grecian urn,

and you will know we are Christians by... how well YOU we discern!

our greatest theme is love, of pregnant pause, and of liberty.

yet, if by proceeding thus, you encounter another one on charitas;

even if that love alone is provably never, becoming-flesh,

itself, it remains enough as is, for them, in letting go, where i stretch by the brook,

in surrendering unto you my closest kindness here right in your book:

and state that what came before was made universally proper and just,

as virtually, as simply, or no longer hurting, thus, this same small story written about each of us.