Play Maker

A ball of its own shape and size floats off the fingertips of chiefs and priests.  The competition is exhilarating and the thrill brings to mind a beautiful right angle triangle under the spell of The Pythagorean Theorem.  It is just not quite to law.  The proof holds true, as the fan support for the home team even when they are away.  The spider heart in me knows that all analogies can represent the uprights of all disciplines.  The body is given to the sea of crowds.  It is like a beautiful crucifixion every Snday.  Resurrection is fourth quarter magic.  For their sin, the pain of the nails sets you free.  The two point connection is an example of the faith in all that stay on the field.  Touchdowns are the nirvana of a team working in greatness and synchronicity.  Today I watched properly, in silence and reflection.  I root from my heart.  I begin my faithfulness with one team, and warrior, and upon dozing off, my attention and favor goes to the other squad.  They come forth triumphant.  There is one man there who I do see as a creature of destiny.  He is both the Arabian and the Percheron of horses.  One is sure footed in the desert, and one fights brilliantly in war.  French war horse, you pulled my two carriage rides in Canada last year at the port stops on my cruise.  I was able to meld with their energy with a loving caress to their noses.  The infinity of their footsteps is like the eternity of rushing yards of the AFC and NFC year after year.  It all seemed to be paralyzed in a mind state toady that was not darkness.  Please speak kindly of me, and I will not have to walk away.  Be grateful for your abilities that come from the heavens and exhausts God on a daily basis, moment by moment.  Even when you don't see it, he never stops working.  He is the one who guides the clouds, the wind, the stars, and all miracles from day to day.