The heart that loved was the access code, there was no other means, it was that simple, just as said 2,000 years earlier, and it was where Holy Spirit dwell ed, in the invisible soul, as invisible as soul, unless you were aware of how it manifested itself. The movement of nature, who could control love, it was very similar. We imitated life around us, our spirits, some had it strong, and more didn’t, most of it greedy, amen. It all started in the heart, and the prejudice.
A bum or an ass, the corruption of language, the double meaning, it was about the context, the timing changed the meaning, over a cloud, upon a cloud, under a cloud, the meaning of sky, who could understand it, only those supposed to understand it, amen.
Betrayed with a kiss, saved by a kiss, it was all very strange. Was there someone watching, how we rush to judge, prepared to react, how fickle the mind, how weak the heart, it ran hand in hand. It was easy to assault the senses, particularly if wound up emotionally.
There were those who read minds, understood our ways, could plan our reactions, fallen angels some of them, others too. Solomon ignored routine for good reason. It wasn’t accidental. Twin worlds, two halves to every life, male and female, which one dominates, decided everything. Finding balance, never easy, especially when pushed.
Empathy, one track in a spaghetti junction of choice, what route will you take?.
The end of the matter, woman walks hospital, in her P.J.’s, she’s ill and hopes, the doctors see her most days, they have her on hold, not sure if she’ll recover, but hopeful. The cost of comfort is innocence. The counters on both sides, the division bell, the referee’sof love or hate, chalk her down. The mystery of numbers, the scores close, will it reach a tipping point. Nervous smiles as another load go headlong down the main highway, the easy route, and it end’s nowhere. Fat Gary winks. The game will be over in no time at this rate. Pilgrims progress poor, around the bend, torment.
Heaven’s team is getting nervous.
You promised us a saviour says one
White beard sipping wine, shakes his head, just like the days of old, little faith. Have fear will run, will listen to anyone, it’s a miracle anyone every made it through. There’s a tap on the door.
Peter opens the door. Little boy big smile, two foot tall, peter stoops, he’s wearing a smile.
And where do you come from asks peter talking the boy inside. The child has arrived in heaven, made it through. Another recruit for the army of angels being prepared. I was crossing the water when I fell in, is my mother here he asks, all impish. Peter gives him a re assuring hug, she’s over there he points, with her other relations.
Peter taps into the child’s conscious, and the family left behind. They are hovering in a hospital room, the boy is on a bed. The father is praying. Relations around him, TV camera’s outside waiting, international news, this boy is certainly special, has managed to change many hearts.
What do you think, what are the choices?, do you believe in being born again?.
Boy opens his eyes, renewed with spirit, lives, everyone rejoices, mother is in tears, doctor cant explain, he must be blessed, another day another miracle. She reads the story of the boy on the beach, realises the gift before her eyes, gets to her knees, will be forever in debt, amen. empathy, the power of good example, amen.