theoretic monestary
empty and broken, completely alone i crawl to the gates of this theoretic monestary… the holy ground piercing me to uncover my feet… and walk in the natural unblemished soil… i cringe with fear.. as i touch the mountaneous stones that mark the steps… a cold fear of being unaswered, of scratching surface sand…. and finding nothing swipes through me… another step.. The fears of hot coals burning my body… as i am found corrupt and unclean, unworthy to be admitted into the inner sanctum. still another step… and the weight of my sins crush me… and i call out… all effort but to pull on the smooth granite to get to the next step… a wash of warm crimson grace rains down upon me… as i touch the last step…. and the weight of guilt falls off me like red maples in the fall… the gate of the sanctum… left open as i creep silently into the inner housing of this great house. the curtain torn in half… and there before the throne in the grandhall… stands a man i have never seen before…. a man who’s voice so silent…. barely audiable…. yet so familiar… His smile… so comforting… his arms open wide as if wanting to take me into his embrace…. i stare up at him… my eyes barely able to see at the rush of bright glory that resonates in the air around him…. falling to my knees… i cry out in confusion… He steps closer…. reaching out his hand for mine… I am confused… his hand punctured… his voice dear and sweet… yet as i cry out… and try to reach him…. i feel my arms begin to fail me… i am flailing…. and the darkness outside the monestary seems to cloud and rush in around me…. wind and storm clashing with great darkness…. He looks at me… at my confusion at my minimal recognition of his soverign identity… compassion. his eyes flashed…. and with his right hand still reaching towards me… his left went up… and with a sudden crash of thunder… the darkness froze…. the storm stood still about me, still — like a child sleeping. He calls for me… silence clouds his voice… but i know he is speaking… I see his mouth move…. it dims am i deaf? blind!? i crawl forward…. and find my hands fumbling in the darkness… a book… an old and arcaic book…. layered with dust…. yet its words burn with brilliant light… His voice… audiable, however faint beckons me to read… to listen and find Him in the very words on the page…