![]() ![]() He had been there many times: Eolair had often found that Josua's was a useful ear for introducing things into the court of his father, King John Presbyter. More at ease now, he entered the discussion-hesitantly at first, but when he saw that his opinion was to be given due weight he spoke openly and confidently about Naglimund, a place he knew almost as well as he knew the Taig in Hernysadharc. 'Where is the marshal?' Cartwright asked. She sat still, ill at ease, waiting for him to recover. He grasped the chair back, drawing himself up into it as he gasped. And he would have a reason to change office. Martha wondered if the Director realized that all he had to do was crook his finger at his sexy Press Officer, and she'd do more to him than shower him with epithets. Poor Pope Paul, she thought, reflecting on the latest nickname Ann Farris had given him. It seems he's deliberately staying far enough behind me so I can't read the tag or see his face. The figure below jerked its head back and threw off a hood, hands clasped to its chest, very still, staring up. The wooden walkway creaked as Isaac rocked, very slightly. Spots of light littered the floor from open windows and broken bricks, but none fell directly on him. Air currents adjusted to his presence, investigated him like tentacles, sending a whirligig of dust spinning around him. Instead, a stranger stood in the centre of the great empty space. Where's the palace? Where's the streets? All I can see is trees and rainbows. He needed his inspiration beside him if he was to be a great Reconciler. There was good to be done with such power, he now knew: breaches to be healed, rights to be restored, nations to be roused, and hopes reawakened. It had stripped him of his shams and chicanery and given him a taste of the Maestro he'd been and might be again. In Pie's self-denials (I'm nothing and nobody, it had said at the beginning) he'd heard an echo of the anguish he himself felt and in Pie's gaze, so heavy with the freight of years, seen a comr'ade soul who understood the nameless pain he carried. It disappeared as quickly as a sea lizard plucks a gull from the air.īut his feelings for the mystif had been no sham, and with good reason. I stood mute for a moment, then felt Janos' elbow in my ribs.Praise the gods you are to be our light, I intoned, and quickly took a purse from my robe and pressed it into Jeneander's eager hands. How much did I, myself, want to believe in Lestat's articulate angels or Armand's glimpse of crystalline celestial splendor? How much did I myself project upon the seeming void my own late and grossly lamented conscience, straining again and again to voice love for the maker of the wind, the tides, the moon, the stars? Of course, it could have been Louis's despair which fueled her fount of misery. The sweat felt alternately good and unbearable. ![]() Upon your purchase, you will receive a Scriptural reference as to how this poem was written and some of the Authors notes, a sign Certificate and it’s authentication by a American poet, Videographer, Photography and Author of the book “Inspirational Poetry by Design.The sky was vividly blue, and the sun glared down upon me as it might on any being. This is my lament, as my heart continue to sing this melody the joy of my testimony indwelt (Holy Spirit) in my spirit and guides my soul so that I can discern from the Spirit and “throw my yoke upon him” that I may fine a resting place for my soul in this “Spider Web”© My Lord, even if my resting place (days) upon this earth amounted to a thousand years I would still be entangled in the “Spider Web”īut, if my dwelling place was based on eternity then the “Spider Web” would cease to exist In Scripture I’m reminded “all souls fall short of His Glory” My Lord, the design of this web, social, political and economical has entangled many throughout generations by various means: Physical, Mental, Moral and Spiritual Bondage As I petition the hearer of prayer, it is through grace by His shed blood that I’m able to fine a resting place for my soul based on faith My Lord, figuratively speaking I was born in the “Spider Web” and because of your grace the testimony of ancient time has always song to my heart a melody that can only be understood by the Spirit “because they are spiritually discerned”Īs your Spirit continues to dwell within my heart in a world that is so fragile, I beseech thy for guidance, so that my soul can fine a resting place in this “Spider Web” The Spider Web a Resting Place for My Soul The Spider Web a Resting Place for My Soul, Canvas 24″ H x 36″ W in. ![]()
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