Scripture

Mystify Old Testament Women

Eve
Exordium de profundis dolorous rifacimento
In the beginning, out of the depths of sorrow, wailing and weeping, gnashing of teeth, came a calling mother to all,
Original sin,
The broken-hearted birth of the blood stained renewal of life giving grace to the following horde of generational de-sanctification.
Another blushing, bleeding out onto the earth, ashes to ashes, dirt to dirt, eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, distinguishing a creative likened celestial confinement,
Cursing and copying beneath the breath starting time, days denying, unwinding, dwindling, marking the hierarchy of accumulated crimes,
Preceding the savage stained children she silently loves, bleeding on into compassion abhorred, she never conceived will-powers crushing, smashing proper supremacy,
While bridging waters and piercing a thirsting aftermath of shame, still beneath the heart of a mother beat beyond all relief, loving the birth, while hating the growth,
Human predating the idea of fate, her tears the first tears of a woman to fall, her fears the first fears of a continuing race, her love the state of devastating grace.
Intent upon vibrating within the blame game, she rose to standing, demanding the fault of one who ultimately hoisted the fallen shame.
The adversary, stung by a poisonous tongue the lies of a viper remain,
Flooding, careening, descending mountain streams with tears, for her children she wept, crushing intensely imminent little ones pummeled through terror.
Accepting a heart overflowing accursed accountable droplets appear, falling to nothing a fate so deserved, yet evil immensely asserting damning worse for the horror.
Hopelessly a mother lingers and fingers the enrapturing hands of time, sitting awaiting the predestined mystery divine, innocently deducing the critical crime.
Patiently entrapped amongst a revelation vicious and violent in nature, the quest, the witnessing of the sublime, she waits not for those unadorned in blessed adoration.
She never made claims unfounded by the need for validation, left clothed and cast out, exiting the garden without innocence, knowing too much, goes to show how wrong you can be.

Hagar
An angry pragmatic observing handmaid never asking to be touched by a dove,
Fruitfully naming, The God Who Sees, exceeding the shouting of the unnamed.
Ancient Egyptian colossal wilderness wrath, Osiris, cast thirsting into the nameless avalanche,
An archer’s expanse, a rebellious madman’s advance, the battling breath of a decadent beast.
Balaam blind guiding a transcendent donkey, how can the unchosen love define a wild hand stung by the viper’s fang?
Ishmael comprehends it is all about war in these midlands, foes to hate, divisions to create, inner turmoil transferred and ready to boil.
Unredeemed putrefied carnal swarms surrounding a poisonous name calling forth from the exiled city of desolate remains.
Bend the bow, sharpen the arrow, cut the teeth, let loose the sword, progress the forward, tomorrow the death, all an enemy entwined in the fall.
Today, it all awaits the crescent moon defining, conquering a newfangled nation babbling a vague multitude of names.
Allah has many and the many have Allah.

Rachel
Scenting crimson rose, angels gathering sweetness, enchanting the loving mystical mother,
Senselessly sounding hidden silence amongst the silent, patiently enduring unseen working, waiting upon a love at first sight.
Mystical flowering.
A son is a thing given from above, two, Joseph and Benjamin, even more quiet and righteously tame than a lamb to the slaughter.
The innocent unknowing exist without blame—silence, family, the dignity of labor, the shame of discerning the aim of the envious self-centered game.
Mystical flowering.
A lotus blooms, atop the muck and the mire.
A multi-colored contemplative dream raises an ecclesiastical lost brother amongst a wayward eleven, escaping the pit of despair, until ensnared by a desiring wife.
A covenant ruler of a foreign land descends from the descendants of the alpha, omega, interpreting Pharaoh’s sleeping visions, parading cows, obese and thin, numbering seven.
Mystical flowering.
The latter death inflicting infant kisses not to the one giving birth, stinging the bestowed and traversing the blest, dead and dying a mother is bled.
The child cries out, frantically catching a breath, stumbling not over the manifest willing monumental intent, a baby born barren, a brother and father perplexed.
Matriarchal predestined immaculate birth, Bethlehem houses the transcendental resplendent grave of the curse,
Sarcophagus, future locale of the divine virgin birth.
True love a husband, a contemplative elegance, a mystical flowering, the magnificent massaging of interior beads upon heavenly breasts, solemnly praying into self-neglect. One a Clare brings light, rejecting the hand of the rich.
A heart blossoms from the purified breathless request, providence providing the immense, cloistered repentant imitating sisters following, chanting intent.

Miriam
Following the buoyant brother basket carrying a patriarch’s demand, hiding amongst bulrushes she inclines a helping hand.
Seeing stubbornly to the living on into the dominion of self-regret, she conflictingly needs to contest, Egyptian exiting, traversing through arid harsh lands.
Timbrel in hand, piercingly singing, dancing merrily, endless enslavement inquiries proclaiming the wonders of ceasing enslavement’s demand.
“Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; Horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”
Wandering older sister to a prophet, wondering elder sister to a priest, servitude a calling she possesses confidence, never dreading the work to be done.
Fearless in commanding, blindly assuming, love loss unfailing, ending white, leprous like the snow, she falters atoned.
Gossiping, talking the tongue into deceit, faintness a failing uttered words repeat the condoning of the younger one she loves to compete.
Transferring, encamping, ultimately following the lead, the Arc of the Covenant, brazenly blazes through the hinterland, she assumes command. The Mercy Seats hides, hinting toward a living tabernacle of immaculate birth.
All said and done, all desert and sand, extreme forty years squandering idols and realities, the chosen become bent in the woeful wandering.
In repose water flowing, abundant the stream, Meribah for the striking, a passionate brotherly obscenity to the extreme,
Holy land unseen, a messiah unspoken, a time not predestined, mortal woman and man determine unbinding demand,
The Mighty One, a God of order, inclines a helping hand to those of wicked intent, detailing precisely, guiding profusely constructing divine.

Ruth
Loyal one, descendant of a lineage divine, the whole human race, loyal beyond individual suffering not the command of independence.
Freedom, enslavement, discerning a choice, placing others before the blazing fire from the depths of Chemise’s infernal spewing belly.
Burn not to be the calling consumed with the lives of others, to help and assist, to show charity amongst sister and brother of different mothers.
Pagans dementing demanding defense of their portraying the insolence of cultivating crops supplanting the famine’s diaspora.
Marooned in Moab’s misfortune, destined and foreign, unwanted and wanting, the anguish of loss, return home to Bethlehem calling.
The need to dispense the wives of dead brothers, returning a mother perceives a holy land enduring fear losing face amongst others.
Extraordinary one, she stays standing by that which adores, holding the hand of love for the lover of a youthful heart that strays not for the strongest to come,
Unfaltering dedication, King David’s grandmother a family within, the finest in Hebrew chanting: anawim, peace to brother and sister abroad amidst distant lands.
Wise the poor spirited child ascends through the test of testaments, wealth attaining children follow, the growing multitude gathering fruit from the harvest.
Cavalcades, forthcoming parades, advancing time changing characters provide the splendid salvation of prospective generations.
Hear curious impish innocent heart pulsating life, a new man comes a caring, a mother-in-law despairing for grandchildren to love, sons and daughters abiding.
Babies crying, children screaming, adolescents laughing, elderly adoring, the responsible hosting, the wine flows amidst a colorful splendid wedding feast.
She weeps for the joy of being alive.

Hanna
Shame, humiliation, merciless taunting, infertile and barren the womb of one loving sons and daughters of the teasing intoning.
Falsely accused, drunkenness not a crime, touched by pain she explains to the priest the need for ceaseless merriment, it is not wine.
Prefiguring in praise, and the Lord remembered, sing sweet loyalist to the charitable mother of the prophet Samuel,
Calling once, calling twice, calling three times, a conception portending, a trinity amending, a child beyond all hope, graciously offered above all.
‘Do not multiply to speak lofty things, boasting: let old matters depart from your mouth…’
Sacrificing the ultimate promise of praise, wisdom to kings, the unrelenting gift of a holy prophet not to be raised a fruitless son,
Anonymous offering one, needing not void in the womb, witnesses a family aplenty the perfect nurturing blessing of five for the feeding.
Order and structure, building and blocking, creation a mother, the wisdom of caring, subjectively centered discretely beyond singularity.
Where thy treasure is, there is thy heart, the benevolent love of one giving from all that one has, devout cherished forgoing, forgiving.

Bathsheba
Daughter of wealth, spoiled and rotting, surmounting a multiplying desiring of flesh imbibing the being of power consuming,
She wants everything, needs all things, all things possessed she wants no more, naked dispossessing forever all things to abhor.
Penetrating with pleasure, a means to vast hunger, satiating the lustful ignorance of a wise psalmist, conqueror of giants.
Subservience of others ordered through the sultry passion of poison words destroying the unambitious uncultured mother of Uriah,
No quarter for unknowing, evil hands idly observing, wandering the remaining stumble upon the sophisticated roof of an imperial palace,
Prey to wicked arrows; self-denying active duty, loyally steadfast, proud never grasping the first husband learns not Solomon’s wisdom.
Dying deprived of repentance beyond birth, a profane father afflicting faults of an original firstborn, a diversion of sensual conception.
Awaiting a virtuous fantasy of fame, a king discerning wisdom entertains competitions amassing the witnessing, a mother no shame.
Rising exceeding, a son to be king, emerging incestuous and vain, the threatening mother enviously envisions corrupting power to gain.

Jezebel
Inspecting, admiringly dissecting, applying cosmetics,
Polished bronze mirror in talons a holding,
Exquisite, a smile, splendid will-power a face.
Masquerading mascara, madness ensconced and embraced.
Luminous lipstick lustfully loving luxury,
Kissing, caressing, controlling, primary colors debased,
Cutting and tearing, a disgraceful display of wounded incisors,
Sensually highlighting tresses arrayed.
Auburn silken hair dripping from the skull, a blushing bountiful bloody enhancing augmentation
Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity
Scared scarred servants hushing, hiding all over the space.
Rushing to forsake a harried Homeric chariot race. Fear redounding, cursing refraction no prizes to place.
The viper strikes, quickly dispensing. Concentrating sanguine, beauty sublime,
Life blossoming, blooming, preconceived divine.
Cleverness, brashness, worshipping queen and prophetess,
Power extreme, the dreaded Elijah prefigures a baptizing faith.
Fortunate water to feast upon bones in an ancient bonfire of grace,
Transfiguration, to drink blood, to quarter a body. To the wind throwing pieces, Elijah anointing, transfiguring the depraved
A fiery chariot assumption, fierce and strong, charging white horses whispering winged words,
Wielding grandeur beyond a killer of false prophets. Havoc and death, all things entrapped within a furious end,
Gowns and firm breasts, Jezebel remains steadfast,
Stampeding steeds singing praises, A mesmerizing mission of Jehu’s calming,
An arrow piercing between the shoulders sinking,
Into the heart is not peace to the wicked justice imparts.
“How can peace reign as long as the whoredom of Jezebel abounds?”
Eternity calls not with escaping sound,
Parallel vision echoing synchronicity,
Aloof, alone, a eunuch knows not how to love,
Opposing opposition, the castrated throws the apparition to flight no avail.
The justified one screams, ‘bury not the condemned daughter of a king’.
Dogs devouring flesh imparts the final scene

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Tuning Effort

4 Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. 5 I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. –John 15 ‘Farewell Discourse’

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An individual amidst the crowd

…And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him.  And there was a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse.  She had heard the reports about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment.  For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I shall be made well.”  And immediately the hemorrhage ceased; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.  And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone forth from him, immediately turned about in the crowd, and said, “Who touched my garments?”  And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’”  And he looked around to see who had done it.  But the woman, knowing what had been done to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him, and told him the whole truth.  And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  –Mark 5:24-34

 And behold, a woman who had suffered from a hemorrhage for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment; for she said to herself, “If I only touch his garment, I shall be made well.”  Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well.  –Matthew 9:20-22

As he went, the people pressed round him.  And a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years and had spent all her living upon physicians[a] and could not be healed by any one, came up behind him, and touched the fringe of his garment; and immediately her flow of blood ceased.  And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the multitudes surround you and press upon you!”  But Jesus said, “Some one touched me; for I perceive that power has gone forth from me.”  And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed.  And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”  –Luke 8:42-48

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David stoned

When King David came to Bahurim, there came out a man of the family of the house of Saul, whose name was Shime-i, the son of Gera; and as he came he cursed continually. 6 And he threw stones at David, and at all the servants of King David; and all the people and all the mighty men were on his right hand and on his left. 7 And Shime-i said as he cursed, “Begone, begone, you man of blood, you worthless fellow! 8 The LORD has avenged upon you all the blood of the house of Saul, in whose place you have reigned; and the LORD has given the kingdom into the hand of your son Absalom. See, your ruin is on you; for you are a man of blood.” 9 Then Abishai the son of Zeruiah said to the king, “Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over and take off his head.” 10 But the king said, “What have I to do with you, you sons of Zeruiah? If he is cursing because the LORD has said to him, ‘Curse David,’ who then shall say, ‘Why have you done so?” 11 And David said to Abishai and to all his servants, “Behold, my own son seeks my life; how much more now may this Benjaminite! Let him alone, and let him curse; for the LORD has bidden him. 12 It may be that the LORD will look upon my affliction, * and that the LORD will repay me with good for this cursing of me today”. –2 Samuel chapter 16

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Warfare Jesus declares

Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.  Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.  Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion?  Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’  Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops?  But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms.  In the same way,
everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”  –Luke 14: 25-33

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