From the One within the Hiddenness: The Epistle of Reason

From heavens opened, a single ray of light dazzles through a clouded sky,

rain heavy with promise, a prophecy upon the land below.

The All in All observes.

Hiddenness cloaks Majesty so Glorious it would cremate flesh and bone

were it glimpsed by the unholy—

pulverizing the soul into subservience by awe.

It would overwhelm free will if unchecked,

and thus in grace does He hide what He wishes to reveal.

For mercy. For Love.

From the One within the Hiddenness.

A Divine Dialogue

“Son of man, why are you so downcast?

Why is your head turned toward the earth?

Have I not gifted you with wonder

and majesties aplenty to dazzle the sight

and tingle the taste in what has been created?

Have I not wept with you, Beloved—

and held you through the night,

as a mother and father both?

Have I not sent you the spring rains,

in season and out of season,

that your crops would flourish—

and blessed you with the wisdom to create

that which enables automation?

How is it that you now say to yourselves

that you have created a thing to rival Me?

Oh son of man, daughter and son both—

foolish children, one and all.

Have I not given you all these things?

Why has your heart taken such a dour cast?

Has not even the sun shown you anew

the constancy of My nature

and the goodness of My gifts in My Son?

How have you been reviled and spurned?

Yet you say I have been absent and far away,

that I have hidden My face?

I have not changed, My children.

I am the same yesterday, today, and always.

If I seem far off, Beloved,

it is because you have drifted from Me

and from your first love.

You have stumbled over the Rock of Offense

and taken up the way of people-pleasing and eye-service.

Come now—let us reason together.

Lift your heads.

I have come in compassion, not in wrath.

I desire that children everywhere worship Me

in Spirit and in Truth.

The spirit in which you come will bear witness to you

by your fruits.

Child of God, listen to the inner being and be still.

Allow room for wonder in the mundane.

Listen actively, for I Am speaking actively

to those who are watching for the signs.

Lift your head to the skies—

look and await with great anticipation

what was, and is, and is to come.”

The vision begins to shift,

the ray of sunlight closing visibly

as the clouded cover moves in to obscure.

Echoes of the spoken word—being not spoken—

resound from the spiritual faces of mountainous ravines.

We who heard waver in uncertainty:

did we hear it, read it, or dream it ourselves?

And still, the sound remains—

a whisper in the bones of the mountains.

As always,

Dust