In The Hands of the Refiner

I stand high above the sea of souls
Gazing at the wondrous beauty of the Body
The building upon which I stand is enormous
The purest white, spacious, with many rooms, and many floors, and many wings
I stand watching…
I stand waiting…
I stand listening…
I hear countless tales and lore
I hear the many words come forth
Sometimes I hear something strange
Sometimes I see a wall coming
That alienates
That separates
Then the Word comes
Then the Spirit comes
They come together as One
With the Father
In the high tower
Of protection its sure
Inside that which my invocation seeks
The prayer of the heart
For upon which I stand
As a watchman…