Spirit Rising

I feel it rising, her soul; and such a feeling, the warmth of
God. We pray the Light, and live the grey; but wailing soul,
The thirst of fruit; and spirit bold, the Kingdom’s force.
A fervent flame, the grip of heart; and lightning volts, a
Christic spark. My living Light, infuse the winds; and
Scripture hertz, a psychic friend. We die and live; and live to
Die, a symbol fair, a deacon’s cry; and fly the fen, a soul
Aflame; and spirit torn, an omen’s reign. My cryptic love,
I fail to see; and fail to love, a sinful me; and flame the truth:
The will to fly: the grit to live: the Word to cry. Indeed the
Soul, the torch of flame: the girth of tears: the curse of Cain.
My priestly friend, invoke the Light; and flail the soul, the
Soil’s ripe; for armor grain, the seeds of life: a vision bled,
And paid the price.