In a moment, solitary, singular and the essence of simplicity it overcomes, overtakes and overshadows.
It seemingly (to feeble mind) prevails, takes over and yet in the moment, an eternity to some, it is but a blink of eye to the other.
Over in an instant, for all, yet lingering to the pitied.
For a few it is a beginning, but for those poor, pathetic other it is terminus, eternal.
In this mortal struggle, life is the fight to hold on; yet in the infinite release, it is the simple and solitary breath that in release is expunged.
Letting go of self, of personage, of that which binds us to this utter and pathetic existence; it is a sigh and symphony in the end, a crescendo to climax of that which bemoans this end of grief and yet rejoices in the continuance of the feted immortal.
Of what use is man to live so that others may know of his wretched existence; there is no life in the mortal (through even its progeny).
Life eternal exists only through the will of the creator, of that which exists beyond definition.
No divining line, no demarcation of property, of wealth – no owing or owning, there is but fruited vine and ripe for the plucking.
Life on the other side of this silvered plane, this mirrored pittance…beyond vacant image, dank and soul-less and as vague as the stare of an eye engorged on pluck and ripened living – beyond this realm there is a place where struggle exists not even in memory.
It is of more ease than the breath of life itself, but wait; how those who live can sometimes want so of air !
This place fills immortal being with a breath that transcends the sucking vicissitudes of vitality – it is a place where a lung never empties.
It is a breath not of simple air, but a breath of the vitality of God Himself.
It is a breath absorbed, and not brought in; a breath as to the runner, a breath of second-wind from destination unknown and yielding to partaking opportunity unbound.
For these, the sad few, the race to infinity is a tape to be broken; but for the legion in God there before them lies no demarcation, no finish line, but a divination of the fog of this life transformed into solidified matter next, now unknown.
Beyond this event horizon there is no known or unknown; it is here that only God prevails.
For what memory of world is served in this realm; what answer to golden question holds key to a success not yet achieved? What more can be achieved?
Here there is no need of past, like present and future time consumes itself in the being of One.
Here, singularity is attained. Here lies the whole…the all, and in Him, the us.
To serve in this realm is no less than to rule (for here, there is truly, only One).
It is this realm in which only God prevails, in which He is the all, the life, everlast.
So to the forsaken brother I now say, this is your chance to live, so live it as if it is God’s alone to expend, God’s alone to expunge, God’s alone to expel. Breathe this life of God.
Yield this life to no man, woman or child…for this life is given not to yield, to bend, or to sway. This spirit, this liveliness that is offered in all, it beckons one and all to a place beyond mirror, beyond smoke and beyond that desperate fog that seems a refreshing breath.
This is the place in which God alone prevails, and with Him, those who wisely choose. Breathe deep this breath of God, for in that single breath there is breath unbound; breath, eternal.