The city had no need of sun or moon to shine on it,
for the glory of God gave it light,
and its lamp was the Lamb. Revelation 21:23
The street lights shone, cold and unfeeling, in the chill night. Streets deserted, windows empty, like blank stares. The stars had disappeared and neither was there moonlight. Not a soul, not a soul. The lights flickered and then went out, and for a moment all was darkness. But then a light began to shine, no earthly sun. It originated not in the east or west, but from nowhere and everywhere. Then could be seen a small animal climbing the steps of the house of the law-givers, its hooves echoing in the streets of the city. The doors opened and entered in the little one. The population awoke and assembled to witness this strange event. And in the lighted watchtower, the new light shone.
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There is a secret wind that blows across all of us. It moves us and gives the impression that we are moving ourselves. It fills our lungs and then withdraws, and we think we are breathing. In the soul’s winter, it tingles and numbs our fingers and toes in a barren arctic landscape. One hears it blowing in the vast empty spaces of the deep darkness and mistakes it for death. In the springtime of the soul, we sense the scent of lilac and apple blossom and newly turned earth. We are tilled and sown, sprouted and blossomed. In the summer, it blows in from the desert with a scorching heat that makes our souls listless and our minds restless. It circles and circles and circles until, in the soul’s autumn, it lifts each of us up like a leaf and deposits us in a great meadow. There, one may be burnt in a great pile as an offering pleasing to the Lord or left to rot among the tangled vines and brush that lie in the valley beyond.
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