Pressing forward
against all odds, navigating through the thorns and brittles in search of
Canaan
For as though it
is written, nay engraved on the walls of the ancients, whispered by the voice
of wisdom and held in the confines of men of understanding,
That there be no
obtaining of the promise of a land flowing with milk and honey, save through
the hot Paths of the Wilderness.
No man ever
arrived his place of purpose on the wings of an eagle or by the strength of his
beast.
Nevertheless all
paths lead to a destination. Hence, I walk, not as one without the light of
knowledge but as one with the knowledge of wisdom and with the knowledge of the
Holy which is understanding.
Alas! A voice
whispers, God provides for no man wings for flight, He who formed man of the
dust of the earth conjured no such philosophy in heart.
Hence He gives to
him that wills and waits the strength, might and agility to maintain the
momentum for the destination.
The joy of all
creation is to dwell on the mounts after the floods have subsided, but there
must need be a baptism of trials and temptation, wrath, darkness and
pestilence, nay, all these work oneself same thing: The Perfection Of The
Adventurer.
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