If it is true, like I believe in my very essence, God is in everyone and everything, let us from the top of the world to the bottom, call out for Mercy.

I miss the feeling of being on the altar; in the church where I first saw the light, but because they’ve freed me: my being is now the altar.

How do we find a dwelling space where love isn’t secretive or illusive? If not in this world, shouldn’t our homes, where only the walls witness everything, be space enough for love's truth?