posted on Mar, 16 2015 @ 09:58 PM
As we sat and spoke I told him of the man who knew the Lord God.
Hearing the story as I spoke it I couldn't help but expel the words as tears, a well understood manner of speech by those who have the gift of
As the story went along the man showed unto his friend the temple his friend had shown to him. In all its glory it stood decorated with gold and the
man's friend showed a sort of patriotic pride.
The man stopped his friend in a manner that brought silence to the mind, and began to speak tears.
"The saint once said that the temple is not the greatness. The Body of the Beloved is what shines," and he spoke the rest of the saint's words in
tears to his friend, but he no longer saw his friend as he felt him there.
The man walked into the temple and caught the gaze of one who heard and heard the words, "but I am no poet".
edit on 103131p://111 by backcase
because: (no reason given)