the short story project


Richard Rudecki


From Sir Iron of Ore King LIONHEARTED©

I am a king, the sword of the Lord declares it. ( Isaiah 34:6 )

Zion was a city in the nation city of Illinois. There worked the ditches of the highway of the Lord. The works thereof still irreverence with reggae and pop christian music.

The rivers flow glimmer and glean. The patronage is not as ready to absolve such a dynasty in the making though. Because in the leading up to the establishment of the city was the turn of a century. 1901 John Alexander Dowie curated a church giving to the creator himself. Around that time of nation’s history God and His prognosticators were vigilant admonished for being the first and last of their kind in america.

Seeing that the Amish, Mennonite and Mormon communities travel great distances to parlay their veneer in public society. Themselves not adhering to public display of early Christian Church doctrine.

The greatest summary of the dot on the map known as Zion Illinois is today not any longer a place of great revival seen in the same time context as that of John Alexander Dowie. The greatest “religious robber baron” of the 1900s. Until his church burning even in 1937.

It goes without saying the man was visionary and in the heat to set the bar for ages to come in all Christendom.

This story only continues on being in the same light today in that you and I the same, find on every channel of every wicked thing before our eyes on television, social media the internet holding the next evolution in world wide commerce.

You see in that day many many souls died in attempts to live and dream in the american proclivity. One would travel barter give the grandson the whole live’s savings. And discover that which the loved one traveled the pond and mighty torrents. To breath the open air from sea to shining sea might die in a solitary bunk. ( see America America circa 1963 film )

Just like those dying without a hope turned into faith in healing pestilences or the maimed, the blind, the deaf, the lame even. The dumb speak, turning the caterpillar of family wishes in hope into tangible faith their posterity lives on today thru.

The place out of the prairie land northern chicagoland was hand picked for by man. Like the forest preserves that spring up native grasses.

This means the documentation for forfeiture or even auctioning off a dollar a land. And 40 acres, mule, doe and hart included. Were at best worked up by antecedent vested interests to a solitary or utopia of global elitism. For the body cattle and ground, for the fruit of your field.

They constructed a ready made opposition to leading societies development in evolution of consciousness. No one man made a collective to form the declaration of independence, consorted to the bill of rights and penance to constitution.

The pages turned and turned for a brighter tomorrow so to speak. Not in any defense rather to Dowie’s predecessors or modular way of imprinting the psyche of today’s spirituality. You can see through all written and spoken history man has nirvana, some deep in the heart.

The heart of man, some like the Hindu meditative practices find their place in nature to alleviate their social structure diffuse by way of two hours minimum in complete unadulterated quietude.

That’s just it!, right there. Time and world’s nations over having witnessed the miraculous pardoning of self. To carve out of the cosmos some subjective resilience to moving the flow of humanity in either eastern or western mindset.

This is what is taught by the spaniards and the pilgrims. But not a group of oppressed by man societies in the past 500 years. Just as slavery still exists, childhood trafficking is at all time high. In light of being the current world leader to stave off 1,000s of years of atrocity to humankind.

The words best fit for this are I behoove ( Einstein’s ) doing over and over the same thing with expectation of the same result.

People knew this a long time ago, before the 1st u.s. diplomacy. So in like manner the greatest story ever told is as you begin you set off on the best foot forward. Like a mother and father wishing hoping praying. For their baby yet in the womb to write from the fountain of gold. Right or left handed. Which ever the morally sound and God fearing, God doting over child soon to be parent has had the upper hand. In choosing that didactic flow of maybe being ambidextrous.

I want to bring clarity here in this short life story of long breathed heart and well paved plans of the highway to heaven.

I write under the influence of something so organic you would say every child born. No matter race sect creed and religions of birth, being of equality or the tyranny of man. Some strange thing so ordained in ordinary. So oblique the ten lepers Jesus of Nazareth healed with the Samaritan and only he came back. They would all have to this day bare up record to see.

It’s this power that lies dormant or is set on fire. Is compared to and unprecedented by nature. It’s a freak by nature and at the same time what is written of in movies, like the planet of the apes. It’s the everyday first happening like your daddies treasure and even the malevolent father’s seed. Because every sperma is a race foresight contestant to the finish. Which makes every breath award winning.


Eros, Storge, Philia, Agape

But beloved we are persuaded better things of you, and things that accompany salvation. Which we have shewed towards His name. For the earth which drinketh in the rain and bring forth herbs meet for them by whom it is dressed. Receive blessings from God! In that ye have ministered to the saints and do minister that certain desire in due diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end. That ye do but, be ye not slothful but followers of. Of them who through Faith and patience have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the world to come. To the world without end.

You see the vibration is impregnated in the mind of the child at conception. You are Audi 3,000 to the 100% born a winner. Thank you, for being on the cusp of a new age. The story line here hastens a painting, paints a brighter picture than before because my love in writing.

I got this world view on history that vamps me up to constantly honor where this comes from. I take time daily to fly, either in prose, poetry or psalms. This is not plauged by the dividing asunder of man pillaging new found land. Or conquering millions thru sword gun or pen of intelligent design.

Great I am, this story of where to lay my head to the super highway written in the sky.

The first definition of love from the lexicon is to breathe after.

The story of Zion is not my story. Like anything, that of the heading during roman imperial sacrilege. Or president bush’s desert storm or afghani freedom.

I am story telling the enigma written down past present and true to present truth ministry here in north america. By the way of lifting up the degree of what took place, what might have went wrong and continuing in the building. For the healing and holiness to take over. Takeover the face of the earth. As carbon-fiber and fiber optics under the oceans mountains. And the craters down memory lane out back the dark side of the moon!

From here to kingdom come. Where ever a reader ends up is as readied as the pen of a writer. As in the last definition of love. Which is, philo; to sanction. ( Revelation 3:19 )

I tell of this story out of bounds that keep me here. For to be chosen to love is of this tikkun olam from Sa-tan’s mess. My very blood carried from beneath vegetation like generation to generation as clear shining after rain and all that pertains to it. So to be the light of the ( their ) morning without clouds as the tender grass springing out of the earth.

Until the repairer of the breech serves and as master not to the last but that also not to who came first. There being the more excellent way. Striving through the thick and thin, the lowly and not so comely. As words to the wise of Ben Sirach were written and removed of puritanism proclaimed declared decreed, “He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled therewith. And he that hath fellowship with a proud man shall be like unto him.” ( Ecclesiasticus 13:1 )

There you are at the side of the road in either trials and triumphs. Bleeding out this course of your very own destiny. To find such a path man has layed down his life for only to pick it back up again. So humongous to huge! for trump to track down those still connected to the state of ecstasy in Sadu mediation and trance. Far to gone by and by of the pre- and post- bellum era. Formed by the likes of those holding trust in their own heritage. And skewed or maligned to fade into its’ native nothingness.

Where sorrow and sighing flee away. Where the Glory begins and the redeemed walk. Singing praises of life as a melody in sweet soliloquy. As the cormorant and bittern possess. The way of holiness, thou fools shall not err; and the thirsty lands; springs of water.

Where my sword shall be filled with blood as it is made fat with fatness. Where the dust be made to brimstone, from the streams turned upside down from pitch. Out of my belly shall flow living waters.

No, many how be-it roads to take to get you here. then. there. For this way-fairing men. As seed budding in the earth.

The recapitulation of the beautiful man.

And bosom, blossom as the rose thrown down at thy feet.



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