God has left the building

When is time at its ripest For the slow, steady footsteps to fall, Ever softer, That they may be heard no more; That their well-worn shuffle may no further Stir the dust of these dying halls?   Tell me now For I must know the timing of these things! I demand an...

Do you see her?

Do you see her?   Do you see her? Asked the Teacher. She has been relegated to your periphery For the focus of your gaze Falls only on those you hold with praise.   Her frantic, lavish giving Has made the worship of My Name Resound within the Heavenlies,...