High on a table top mountain a cool breeze moved
the wild Lilacs all around me, as if they had been waves at
I had an eagle eye view of a tiny tan colored church below.
A small golden cross sat on the very top of its steeple,
glistening as if precious jewels in the morning sunlight.
Drifting in the air was the sweet smell of lilacs mixed in
with my peppermint candy I had just popped into my mouth.
What appeared to be tiny ants in the form of people moved
below me, and filed into the church as if they had been
soldiers on parade.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine times
rang the church bell ringing in the hour. It reminded me
of thunder, awaking the world around me, from its sleepy
Perception is everything I thought.
Within those church walls was every secret you could
Just as a hospital has beds for the sick, the church is a
hospital for wounded souls. Just as some will get stronger,
others will not.
As long as there is faith and love, there will always be hope.
The pastor followed the wounded souls into the church and
shut the door.
I took out one sheet of snow colored paper , that was to the
touch, as smooth as glass. And one sky colored pen.
When I have time on my hands, I like to just sit, and make
a general observation of the world within, and share it with you.