Bile and the Back of Tongues

I am aching.

And so is this world. Her contractions are increasing in frequency, intensity.
Her pain has been rubbing off on me. 
It should on us all, but there are too many asleep or blinded by the crafts of an enemy.

Life transition has soaked up my attention. 
These local matters squeeze out much of my walking moments, but all the while I cannot help but glance back at the looming shadow of the world to come.

Stone sand between my toes as I shoulder a boulder.

A lifetime of faith is no sprinting matter. This sweat is steady.
The musk of exertion now a familiar friend in the moments of catching up on breath.

We now come to a mansion of glass; the beams of which are many but breaking.
The Awakening is adding flesh to dry bones and these bodies, raw and tender still, awake lucid and bull-true to the mission of preparing a renewed foundation.
A thief whose tools are guile and wit contracted a false deed, building on land owned by One much greater.
The Owner has sent His children to demolish, reclaim, and prepare that land.

So many minds are still death-thick in futility.
The daunting sight of this world's poisoned body claims my gut.

I await the revival of this realm.
The dark one and his minion have yet to wreak the peak of their havoc, but those years are within my lifetime (unless I am fated to traverse full into my whole body sooner than I assume) and I am prepared to let my candlelight loose on this dry bush of a people who have allowed me close access to their ears. The damage of that dark one will be done, but not without my work and duty being served for the cause of the side that has already won.

The eyes of this vehicle are weakening and are yet I am gaining vision. 
If only I had more eyes that I may give them away. 

Alas, some dreams are better off ignored. 
All too well do I know that faith cannot be transplanted but must be organically grown by the will of the host in the soil of their heart.
Trust that I will aim my seeds with the extent of their potential as they are trusted to me by the Architect of infinity: YAUA.
May such seeds be welcomed by your hearts, o pregnant world.
Your child comes at the price of much pain, blood, and wailing.
I am beside you and can do little beyond wincing at the pain you endure.

Forever, dearest YAH, does Your watch capture this realm.
Your timing is perfect and Your actions, complete and efficient.
Your apprentice honors and adores You.