I'm spiritual! You know what spiritual means! Me and God has a good relationship. I'm in tune with the universe, the sun, moon, and stars. I'm in tune with the jinns that are all around us.
...And, all at once, the moon arouse through the thin ghastly mist, And was crimson in color... And they lynx which dwelleth forever in the tomb, came out therefrom. And lay down at the feet of the demon. And looked at him steadily in the face.
As a child my grandmother used to tell us stories about the dead and the mystical.
Those giants of old, the ancient Rishis, who never walked but strode, of whom if you were to think but for a moment you would shrivel up into a moth, they sir, had time-and you have no time!
If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now
We can deny angels exist, convince ourselves they can't be real. But they show up anyway, at strange places and at strange times. They can speak through any character we can imagine. They'll shout through demons if they have to. Daring us, challenging us to fight.
They all have tired mouths and bright seamless souls. And a longing (as for sin) sometimes haunts their dreams. They are almost all alike; in God's gardens they keep still, like many, many intervals in his might and melody. Only when they spread their wings are they wakers of a wind: as if God with his broad sculptor- hands leafed through the pages in the dark book of the beginning.
The centuries are sprinkled with rare magic with divine creatures who help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us
