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The Architect of the Divine
More than a hindered of them in colorful suits gathers in a room
Contemplating the replacement of an icon that has left us too soon the body did not get enough time to cool and there they are
casting lot over his dead body that lies still in the tomb
I am still figuring out how he died, when he has made so much sacrifice with my face buried in the soil I held my stomach and cry.
There was not even a semblance of dignity for his reign in the Vatican city, you have your design of what his replacement should be without understanding the architect of the world and what it beholds.
Throw back your head and look at the painting of the Sistine chapel above you and you will see Micheal Angelo gift to pope Julius the conception of the world before we were call boys and girls, man was naked in his form before the break of Dawm and out of this shape man and woman made appointment for the first date.
If you can see beyond the ceiling you will know that church is about spiritual healing and the sacrifice of the world was made by men women boys and girls and so the appointee one should understand the gender of the land place the love of humanity over all other priorities.
I can see two cardinals in the tree that have studied the world in various degree, the understand the people in it and the religions that comes with it; you will dismiss all the cardinals from the chapel by noon except for those two that will pray for spiritual discernment an and altar boy and a alter girl and a middle age woman will join with them evening and just that small group will make the selection before the break of the day.
Come and break bread with me and I will serve you a cup of tea
Wear something simple and comfortable for we will not ascend in the heavens, the universe has work to do and it is looking for people like me and you, so let’s begin before the day is through.
Plant wisdom in your head and walk with courage in your feet and the architect of the divine will make selection complete.
the creation tells a vivid story kind was born naked in their form with blood dripping at their feet.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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