Journal

I see pages like spirits
On them ink drops and tidbits
White as the light in flight
The firmament is so bright

Black drops in their ordered forms
Yes, stars inverted that inform
The Epistolary Army
That Dictionary hobby

Jots and tittles seem like riddles
But to the wise they are His signals
The connected line that shines
Even to revealing her crimes

Record for future generations
Death is already in operation
Even seeking to change history
And to make all knowledge a mystery

Yet written in heart and mind
the Original’s Design
Nothing can change for all time

Sorcerers books of death
Ledgers to maintain the debts
Upon their heads they weigh scales
Who can count all the details?

So journal well with God in mind
Give to Him or life will blind
The counting is in heaven
and your hairs are as seven

Trust not in having names alone
For in One Name is God’s Shalom
The Living Breath can save from death
Is living life to you a threat?

Old John said I wish to see your face
And not forever to write of grace
You are the journal of our hearts
You are the King’s greatest art.