A God without a name

Cast out from the tree and from the stone, a God rests high upon his throne.

Scripture burned upon the page, the priest asks how we may serve thee?

Visions abound outside the church door, the heavens cascade,

it is the light of my sun.

– Josh Fleming

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Sleeping in the distance

A God ripped from the earth and flung into the cradle of dying stars, resting quietly above.  Asleep in dreaming with the silence, a faint whisper is heard in the dark, echoes from a world collapsing, pining for the return of its son.

– Josh Fleming

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Gods ripped from the earth and flung into the cradle of dying stars, resting quietly above.  Asleep in dreaming with the silence, a faint whisper is heard in the dark, echoes of a world collapsing, pining for their return.

– Josh Fleming

An in-process exploration of writings about life