As I escaped from my heart’s induced weeping and entered my sanctuary, I called to the passions of my hopes and dreams. There arose from my inner refuge, the warm arms of heaven’s embrace reaffirming Christ’s presence. That’s when you leaned into my shoulder and said, “You smell like the season’s blooms, darling.” We watched as our singing yard birds danced & bathed, then soared into the mystic. Excerpt from Diary of a Seeker, Tales & Anecdotes of a Life Student, “The Inner Temple Divine”, Page 156

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