There is a fountain of mercy that is never-ending. The fountain of mercy which
is in the wilderness. The wilderness where a few doves are seen up yonder in the
sky. It flows in the heart of a humble young man who works on the farm.
It is in the eyes of a young mother who has been rescued from tragedy just in
time.The lost child who is standing in the middle of the crowd. That very child who
is in need of a higher Love. A higher Love which is immeasurable.
The higher Love to embrace when a new dream unfolds. A new dream that is
coming alive once more. The new dream where every heart beats to the sound of a
new vision.
The light that has started to break through the void of the lost soul. The fountain
of mercy which lifts him out of the pit of despair and doom. The wayward soul taking
in a single ounce of courage.
A brand new slate that has been given to him as the fountain of mercy brings him
onto solid ground.
I am becoming a living fountain. I know where of you speak. Though my tragedies do not resemble yours, I have, by years, more of these besetments of life. Yet because of the First Fountain, I live and move and have my being. I can enjoy your free, deeply moving writing as I read one line at a time, and think. Each of your sentences has something of great grandeur in them. Let them shine out, more and more to their fullest. I encourage you: become like the Master Fountain and never stop writing. It is therapy for the soul, and more; it honors the Master.