Certain Knowledge Know

I. Journeys through Diversity defining Life There is something rather sad about people those poor compelled people, who have somehow unseen silent become, wanders over face of siren earth. Especially when they have become old when they are alone, worn, torn, and old. Especially alone, when weathered worn old as I now suddenly become amazingly old. It touches my enveloping heart with old haunting memories, due to an ancient inheritance an intense wandering quest spirit, mixed within my celestial nature. For I was born old yet lingering scent, craving curiosity, kept life’s hardships, new intriguing about harsh edges. Barely enough a desire to perceive know, motivates tired emotions inquisitiveness, discovery no rarity. Makes for a strange rich personage, some even stranger, chance bedfellows. But what journeys journeys through diversity defining life. Life’s been a fated warp fabric so many loose threads, running through mists, merging cyclic link bound time. Soon traverse must wane, decline fade waver, with encroaching onset age. Rove no more hell bent astray, untwist ravel out possible pathway, magic many varied impulsive way. II. A Scientific Tasteless Artificial Era He is old now hell bent rover spends his time among flowers, flora diverse trees in winter, species of trees shrubs ferns, quietly pondering mysteries for hours; summer embodied in capsule nature investigating wild places near adventure. Still they tell tall stories about him stories that can raise the ears of corn, grown to sky proportions above height man, grown more swiftly and surely than is born, in favoured climates despite balanced care given. A free flavor of exultant expectation that leaves the taste buds buttered, in joyous nourishment, invigorating life, with stimulating minerals and vitamins. Imbued real wonder of such organic foods mouth watering melons seemingly grown, by myth fairy folk who chance still reside, may some say about ageless mystical regions. No experimental genetically modified foods grown to new disproportionate research size, in cauldron vats modern chemical nutrients, symbolizing a scientific tasteless artificial era. III. Eyes Telling Multiple Mysteries His face is old now old and weathered by time battered by elements mishaps the odd hand, a face telling intriguing many layered stories. A face evoking long lived life distinguishing in every timeworn, etched evolving wrinkle, slight change in profile, etched characteristic; events marking bloody birth of numerous nations, monumental decisions, progressive undercurrents. With eyes telling multiple mysteries they have suffered, been and seen, knowing well amoral human heart its vulgarities, depths of perversity. Eyes looking through heart soul stripping naked concealed secrets, at mere glance, eyes that hold yet cannot be met, knowing; demanding eyes, undeniably piercing. Eyes leaving you speechless, breathless, burning with resilient defiant fire, though indisputably kind; infinitely gentle, forgiving normal human shortcomings. His face was a face even gods would look upon, twice at in wonder, when blessed ethereal light shone, upon his mesmerizing countenance. Oh how countless years faded, restored life, regenerated vitality, upon him swiftly spiritually bloomed; while still seen, even more clearly, great age, knowledge skillfully chiseled; into those unmistakable ravaged features. IV. I Was Even Born In Them He used to sing in a sort of rhythmic rhyme, from time to time, I remember one such rhyme. ‘If I had a golden dollar for every dive I’ve been, I would still be in this dive, I am diving depths of life. Life’s been a long tilled amazing wondrous highway, so many strange absolutely unique, apparently dead end byways. Some so savage rough I near died, came out sideways, bore the scars my stripes, nursed; healed scourging proudly, my way. Seen some like Paul cruel, hideous, inhuman actions, a shape of terror lies; in man’s, acceptance easy sanction, been the recipient; of some such, depraved demented actions. But we healed the broken links in their unholy lives, we turned the other cheek, healed their god forsaken eyes. I was a hot headed misguided Saul Lord Jesus made me a Paul, I pitched a new forgiveness tent, Holy Spirit made palace everywhere we went. Holy Spirit flowed like a river of wine we saved many a lost soul just in nick of time, when they called out to the Most High Lord, heaven Jesus said shall be their reward...’. Such was his personal song of redeemed life, a man a slave to the Holy, Most High God, publishing in his life; way of true salvation, trusting to be saved; through purchaser Jesus Christ. V. God Bestowed Information Money never really mattered he made it, spent it, over a long principled life; that in itself was enough. Money was just a simple tool to procure, life’s necessities, to be used wisely skillfully, as were all tools; of life’s trade. It was to be used, that was all, unlike others, his money he used; it did not use him, rule over him, control his actions, control his life. But the God bestowed information contained in his astute judicious brain; of more lasting value, than development, of a super-sonic, combat attack aircraft. Full-blooded wanders certain knowledge know, the depths of such intrinsic knowledge, understanding, is like the vast energized dark freezing depths; of interstellar space, waiting for us to go there, search out, explore new knowledge. And ultimately enlightened know... The last thing he said before he smiling died. Spread my ashes over Auschwitz. Spread my ashes. Spread my ashes. Among my nameless beloved brethren. He was a strange saintly kind of guy. Copyright © Terence George Craddock