The holiness of love inspired ordinary men and women to act like angels. It lifted them on wings closer to God.

Earth, Ashes to ashes and dust to dust in mother earth we place our trust and as we cycle through our years we water it with blood and tears.

Passion now begins to wake and whom we desire, we will take then we'll cut them down to the quick love itself the cruelest trick. Moved we are by loves sweet song though it plays not for long we can blow on embers bright till passion outtakes the light.

Ostara, if one dies while in these othere states of consciousness, one dies indeed. this begs the question, are dreams truly only ever dreams?

There is a moment after death when things can go one of several ways, when souls can mingle and reunite-or be forever parted. Fate throws the bones, and hearts are mended, or shattered. What tips the balance in one's favor? Is it Mercy, or Grace, or Justice-the names of the three brightest angels? Or is it Love, the name of the One True Being?

The holiness of love inspired ordinary men and women to act like angels. It lifted them on wings closer to God.

As never before, he understood the vitality of tradition, the dignity of the worship of what had existed before one's own self had come into being. There was no shame in awe; there was exaltation. (“Cafe Endless: Spring Rain”)