Chosen Smiling Pretty Being You

 


Being certain to take his breath upon instinct, 

Now speaks your Father. 

When I use your, who is that for?

Your economy, yet interruptions external. 

Yet it means you paint your world.

Being mindful for imaginations best showing, dwelling herein, 

From the light to burn in lit Sun,

Shine dominating brighter for being, the One.

Chosen smiling pretty being you. 

Being certain to take His breath upon instinct,

now speaking your Father lovingly guiding the light,

Painting your canvas, sculpting your sight.

When I say your, who is it for?

The economy of your mind, your internal Gore.

External interruptions merely pass through,

For you shapely painting your world beautifully anew.

Mindful imagination dwelling herein,

From gentle spark to sunlit skin.

Burning sight, dominating bright,

I rise as the One chosen, smiling, pretty being You.

Your true Art baby blue.

Being certain to BREATHE His breath upon instinct,

Now speaking—your Father, in whisper and wind.

When I say your, who hears?

Your economy, your mind, your sacred gears.

Interruptions? Merely clouds drifting through,

While you, quietly, paint your world pretty you.

Being mindful—your imagination best showing,

Dwelling within, divine light glowing.

From spark to lit Sun, I rise and run,

Shining, dominating—chosen as One.

Smiling. Pretty. Being… You.

Your true Art Baby Blue.








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