QUOTE : Seeing the God statement<br /><br />Suppose the statement Blessed<br />Are the pure in heart, for they shall see<br />God were placed like a wreath of violets, <br />Lilies, laurel, and olive, blossoms strung together<br />Like words in a sentence, a garland<br />Launched, set out on a flowing creek<br /><br />Imagine that wreath carried<br />Down the frothy rapids, tossed, floating<br />Slipping over water-smooth, moss-colored<br />Boulders, in and out of slow, dark pools, <br />Through poplar and willow shadows. It dips, <br />Sinks momentarily, emerges, travels, maitains <br />Its ring, its declaration and syntax.<br /><br />At times it widens in a broad, deep <br />Current, makes sense as a gift.<br />The pure becomes inclusive, spatial, <br />Generous. God and heart are two<br />Spread wings of one open reading. <br /><br />And at times it narrows, restricts.<br />Violets and heart entangle<br />With God. The blessed braces, <br />Overlaps lilies and laurel.<br /><br />Still, at any point you might <br />reach down yourself, catch that ring<br />of blossoms, lift it up, wear<br />its beauty and blooming distinction<br />across your forehead. Look into a mirror.<br />See what you can see.