Square Miles

The fresh ledge comes to a point where Juice crouches at the edge. Readiness pierces through his harshly lit eyes. He is a character you’d expect to find in the city, but rarely see. One in fifty square miles. Repeated fence patterns appease the eye like a homer over the stadium fences. A wildcat in a batting cage. Power in the pledge. Shake the dust off the turquoise shoes. Chosen and precious in the sight of the Supreme. Focus mutes noise.

Although deserted by teachers, police and strata societies smooth stones are pressed into wall of concrete. As each one is touched by the living cornerstone they build up to form a supra house. His excellencies shape those who believe. The call goes out at the speed of marvelous light to chase away shame covering the carnally dark form. Now stand upon a new foundation. It stands forever in scripture. We were once not a people and disabled to receive mercy. Image bearers marred in malice. A chalice of wrath poured out in the supreme sacrifice. The Living Stone is here so we could become living sacrifices within the square miles assigned to us. Mercy lives there on each block. The clock will soon run out.