When the prayer makers thought of the soul as a garden, they liked to picture in it the Creator setting a breeze into motion and the flowers of the soul to dancing. On a gray morning or a dark night, in late autumn or in barren years as much as in brighter times, the imagination of such dancing signals that divine activity is all around us, only waiting to be recognized. May the prayer and the dreams that goodness might displace everything that is flawed in the soul come to be realized for another dancing day.
~ from WHEN TRUE SIMPLICITY IS GAINED by Martin and Micah Marty
Her eyes were kindled from the lamps of Heaven. Her voice reached through me, tender, sweet and low: An angel's voice, a music of its own. And in the center, great wings spread apart, more than a thousand festive angels shone, each one distinct in radiance, and in art.
