In The Hands of the Refiner

I wrote this upon waking from a dream:

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 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 it’s sure

Inside that which my invocation seeks

The prayer of the heart

For upon which I stand

As a watchman…