Paradise of the senses, yea I have found,
With its golden streets winding all around,
A wandering through to escape my boredom,
One more quest to complete my life undone.
 
Paradise of the senses, a thrilling ride indeed,
A life in the fast lane at a high rate of speed,
No time to look around and find God inside,
Who needs him when the thrill is in the ride?
 
Paradise of the senses, I arrived there all alone
In a field unyielded from a field unsown.
The fruits are in the labor and the love of God.
A righteous journey and a defiant road untrod.
 
Paradise of the spirit, a blissful road to be,
That God built for us with love to set us free,
A freedom song from his inaugural christening,
Though we shan’t lose ourselves in our singing.
For what is a road that the senses built?
A paradise attained with an immoral guilt.
 
Paradise is a freedom
But not freedom alone.
It is a road traveled with God
To consecrate our freedom.

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Nelson D Reyes
over 2 years

Great metaphor. How true! I’ll take the spirit at the fork in the road and let my senses work things out toward consecration guided by the markers on the “spirit road”.

Like. Thanks Robert.

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Nelson D Reyes
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