There’s promises.
.
.
.
Dont forget the promises.
You may have to brush off the dust, or shake off the ashes.
But fires are harmless in the face of them.
They may feel buried six feet down,
But they are still breathing
Like those raspberry roots that never die.
.
Bulbs that survive north pole desolation.
Weeds that wait for water after a thousand years
They bloom.
.
Promises are indestructible
And never fade with time.
.
They say that light never dissapears
– or sound
Or molocules for that matter.
Always shifting changing but still surviving. Being.
They exist.
Promises.
They are hardier even than all of that.
Promises are the very beat of Gods heart.
They drum on through time and they will be found for the seeking. Become a shield in the waiting.
They revive and make strong.
They knock the wind out of every lie that was ever told,
And take down even jericho strongholds.
For a whisper, on a cross, two thousand years ago, they shall be kept, ‘remember me’.
A touch will shatter the secrets that enfold them and drain the power of the universe for a single piece of living dust.
.
Promises.
Hope murmured from finger tip, to finger tip,
Breathed out before time began –
Ask and it shall be given.
