The power of vision Roads
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Train Directions To 120-55 Queens Blvd
Bishop neat nail tore his enormous belly of greed. Bishop slowly wandered the sidewalks surrounding the walls of the cathedral. Endeavored to explore its rectangular base as a sign of his unwavering faith. And what effort, almost always ended the tour panting in front of the huge wooden door. It took several minutes to open. Was weak, emaciated arms were not used to moving. His hands did not go out of their pockets, not to know, just to safeguard their possessions. What is not used atrophies. Inside the basilica
cross-shaped bald head of the bishop received invisible light that passed through the glass. While wearily climbed rung by rung to the summit their whispers hissing in the fine acoustics of the cathedral. Whispers of a satyr, as recited incantations to ward off thoughts of desire. He dreamed that his promotion lets you find and hope at least a slight whiff of his breath. Or rub your skin promising. Promising kingdoms were only in his imagination as he never dared to commit sins of the flesh.
The abbess, sewed their ointments in a cloister overlap. While the baked believed his hand was guided by someone from beyond. I felt the desperate need to relieve the pain of others. But much to his dismay his research with medicinal plants were not frowned. In the end it was just a woman. Hid his oratorios and poetry under the bed. His writings had the power of vision. Many times I was not meaning to reread. Abounded with unfamiliar words invented. Birdsong sounded steep to crash into the sky.
That morning, the abbess, ascended to the weightlessness of the dome, which is sharpened to infinity. Sought to bridge that cover the sky with the earth. He dreamed that his promotion was a stake through the heart of his master.
The Nazarene observed in the acute vertex access only the few. Would no longer eat his flesh and drink his blood. Transgressed the law once and not repeat. It was clear to the Supreme Being must devour the bottom.
The Abbess bowed with the chalice in his hands to collect some drops of blood from his master. The bishop wanted to give support and help.
The God understood the gesture of both as a gift. And gladly accepted. Was incorporating the bishop and the abbess to assess substance without virtues, chastity, services, charity and temperance. At last we are all equal in His blessed eyes.
Bolstered by the support, the apex of the Gothic cathedral became more subtle and raised several feet into the unknowable. Van
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