Songs of Paradise

It seems I thrive on the challenge of constriction. I am part of a small prayer group with 3 other guys. We get together once a week and most of the time it's pretty serious, talking about our lives and struggles, supporting each other, praying for each other. However, once in a while we just have to break loose and instead of meeting for prayer we go out for a beer, laugh and drink and have fun. A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, right? Anyway, one night (we all being writer's of one persuasion or another) decided to do a writing challenge. We would start out with a random phrase and we all had until the end of the evening to come up with a small oeuvre using that phrase, then we would read our "works" to each other. The phrase we came up with? "A brackish sea awash with fumes." Nothing like a little cheer for fun night, eh? Anyway, here is what I came up with:

Songs of Paradise

A brackish sea awash with fumes
Lies nestled black in barren moor
And sentry-like guards heaven’s door.

Those brave enough to die descend,
Inhaling centuries of death
To find at bottom God’s own breath,

And pumping holiness like blood
They look with restless, shining eyes
And see the long sought, long feared prize.

No gold or silver, no gem this
But Glory, intimate, unkown
And Life, new life. Like seedlings sown

They rise, with hands stretched out to sky,
Unwitting echo of sacrifice
To sing new songs of Paradise.