A New Face

Posted in Readings From The Seven Shepherds | The Writings of Many Willows


The endless efforts of the human spirit enfolding within itself, over and over with the birth pains of betterments to greet that perfection that cometh, Our warm tears greeting our sorrows of hurting hearts that, the love given, with no returns of healing from those who endure this present dimension of learning, for be it that love for love is returned to us who labor for perfection;

the time will come when all is vanished, and that which is now will be no more, The darkness now casts the painful spears of hatred into the hearts, and souls, of the Holy Riders’ of Am, The Un-Holy wait, as a bridge of safety that looks as a safe path across an ever increasing maze of turns; Truly the dark king appears as an Angel of light, then removes the heart of the child, knowing he has but a short time left to glee, in his everlasting damnation of conduct;

O Holy Am, Our Eternal Father, Come Quickly, Hear our pleas O God, That we may be saved, and that we may look you in the Face, and eyes, that our tears speak the words that, We Love You Father, we will not be orphaned, we will not be The Bastards of Satan, and that we are the heirs of the Kingdom of Light; Send fourth the Word O God, Send Fourth the light into the world; Start the Holy Spinning Of the Eternal Spheres, of renewing; There is a light, A light the likes of which has never cast a glimmer in the eye of  Man; that light is the true light, that lightens every man that comes into the world; and the World sees it not; tra’ nha’ tor’ nah’ beh’ hoa’ The Darkness flees that light, that its works not be known; Lets Us Start the Great Turning; Lets us draw on the powers of the Heavens, Let us create a spinning as never before, We are one in the spirit, We are one in the Lord, We are one in the Spirit,  We are one in the Lord, and will know we are his by our Love, By His Love;

No Tree, or Vine, has Hurt one of its own Branches, or leaves and survived;

Many Willows
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About the Author

Many Willows

I was born in St. Louis Mo.

When I was 6 yrs old we move to a little French township called Florissant; located within minutes of the Convergence of Where two Rivers Meet, the Mississippi River & the Missouri River; Just a little east of the Missouri River Are what we call The Great River Buffs, several hundred feet high, that run along the Mississippi River; There is an Indian legend, that follows these bluffs, The Legend of The Piasa Bird, which was carved into the Bluff Facing; and since restored; I have been there many times, I have made the climb to the top of the Bluffs on more than one occasion, which is not an easy task;

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