Thursday, November 20, 2008

Serpentine 65:2-6

As I gazed at the glory of the throne, a soft wind blew over the backs of my shoulders. "Relax, relax, relax," said the Lord. My mouth became sweet with the taste of honey as my body slid to the ground. The light of the temple pressed me into the dirt, filth as filth that I am.

No comments: