Do you remember crossing the Bridge Of Light, held in pure mindful experience?
When you knew who was calling before the ring. You finished another’s thought. That chill up the spine. The tingling around your head – the path to forever once crossed. The magnetic pull of a person, or place. When art elevated you into a secret joy; time itself slowed to a single grand breath. The sorrowful ring of wrong. A gentle voice of deep peace. The flash of knowing. The dream that was real. That sense of foreboding (let us leave this place). A love so powerful, you wept. You were beside yourself, detached from the world. That was no coincidence; you followed the voice. Being wrapped in the warm glow of love. You read my mind. The nagging premonition. The music; the book that found your right moment. That timeless calm when you experienced a spiritual presence – no need to explain it to anyone, yet you confided in me.
Spirit does not reside in the abstract. What more evidence of inner light do we need?