Fruitful

If God’s outside of space and time and I am made in the image of that frame in mind, why do I bind myself to systems we should’ve left behind?

Why do I try to reconfigure the future When the present first must fall in line? Who are you really Sanai? If God is love then, so am I. My eyes made of rosebuds cheekbones, the thorn, sharper than swords, rose windows to the soul. Lull me to sleep while the birdies tweet a song so sugary sweet, I’ll carry their prayer like a carol during sweater weather see me as who I am together. I understand I am made of human flesh and blood but the light in me is ultimate creation divine shines in my soul. I need nothing because I’m fruitful indeed.

Transforming Reign: Volume 2 The Soul of Self-discovery