i hope my words are strange and wondrous,

like kisses that quiet all things superfluous,

so that we can all stop and

listen

Marcus Aurelius said,

if that is so,

then i want my soul to be painted in the most beautiful colors imaginable to the human eye,

i want every tiny and every shade splashed and blended into each other, seamlessly.

but i know the truth that is me,

and i see the little patches of ugly that seep and spread,

always encroaching the borders of that which could be.

its hard to control,

the edges often find themselves dipping into

containers of colors that shouldn't be, but are.

the painful reminder that only by grace alone is this cloth bleached,

and given another shot.

so,

if my soul will be dyed with the color of my thoughts,

then my thoughts shall be ever on You.

so to become the brilliance it was meant to be.

so to absorb the consistency it was meant to hold.

so to adorn that broken thing which is also your home.

till my fingertips are dyed with your glory,

and my eyelids grow heavy from majesty,

so my feet will run swift with faith,

and my chest rises and falls to the rhythm of grace.

the hue of you Lord,

stain my heart,

stain it all.

and then some more.