10 May 2011

White cliffs that hide the mountains’ height when one looks up from the beach, below; clouds that have meaning in the shapes they seem to describe, as if our dreams lifted off from within our minds’ eyes into the heavens; rivers that flow in constant rhythm, as if time traveled down them, rode the currents steady, fish who swim within them never to grow old… I painted images within my imaginings in dull technicolor, all that a mortal visualizing could generate, and then I understood that it would serve better in words, which could invoke in greater hearts much the more spectacular sights: if God Himself would read them, I could wonder what the pictures would be in His cogitations, and how incredibly wonderful and strange they might be.

posted by John H. Doe @ 2:55 pm

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