New Story ~ Part 8

April 18, 2013 at 12:18 am (Inklings from Hisimagenme) (, , , , , , , , )

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New Story continued…

Meanwhile over the River Fraken-Flo and into the plains of Grace-Field; rainbows rode on a breeze. The tops of long grasses among the marshes bent and blew in the prismatic breath of it. Scores of unending plains now became a motley of colors. Motion set off the hueific turns of bush and stalk; rock and dirt; leaf and stem. Trees sparsely jutted about in tribes, giving shade to Grace-Field’s creatures. As far as the eye could see; to the Great-Waters, this land had held little invitation; but was not without its secret treasures. For here, the butterflies remained, though in scarce numbers. The breeze brought with it a renewal of their essence and cocoons began to cling to every stalk and stem. The din of chimes and clinking glass orchestrated Grace-Field’s symphony. Like a great psychedelic organism – Grace-Field answered the boy-lad King’s voice and sang his song – like a lost love returned.
For the butterfly was a prayers bird.
Spoken as a transformed living word. Reflecting the Father-all’s heart of Intention; as all things that begin at crawling and finally upon His breath take flight in beauty. Grace-Field became a flotsam of reflections of the pith of Life answering His will. The age of Intention had been cocooned here; long thought dead – but death in itself is Life…intended. Whispered in groans, upon the skeletal remains that harkens the Father-all to breathe the breath that calls forth Life back into old bones. Often called by the name of suffering – but answering at full attention to the name of Joy.

The ebb and flow of the King-lad’s melody rose up in harmony with fragile wings full of power. To the eye of an Imagemen the appearance though beautiful, could easily be written off as inconsequential. Yet, in the eye of an Imagemen the appearance of things often blinded. The intonations of the boy-lad’s song; sang a tune that required more than ears to hear or eyes to confirm with the sight born of a field of cocoon-born creatures. Once confined to crawling and slated to die; encased in a bosom of a death that vibrated in thrums of freedom called Life. Hence as they emerged they have no recollection of ever having crawled in the first place – they did not lament what was. They rose up and flew as if they never knew their once ground-bound limitations.

Aside from the beauty of color and resonance that rode on the winds and wings of proclamation; far more was awakening in all of Irlivadad from Frakenland to beyond the Great-Waters. The very orb of its existence spun in the Father-all’s hand; everything cast its gaze on the King-lad…watching…waiting.. in a flotsam of lambent winged glory.

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Part 9, next week 🙂

For those just joining…click the link below, scroll down to the bottom, click ‘next page’ and begin at Part 1…enjoy!
https://hisimagenme.wordpress.com/category/all-imagination-is-divine/

Grace and peace in Yeshua the Messiah ❤

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3 Comments

  1. New Story ~ Part 8 | sevv61's Blog said,

    […] New Story ~ Part 8. […]

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  2. healthiestbeauty said,

    Reblogged this on The healthiest beauty.

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  3. healthiestbeauty said,

    Reblogged this on The healthiest beauty.

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