The way I know you know

You stop before a blurry edge: the light and colors swirling together to form a cocktail of breath-taking beauty, receding beyond the edge.

Beyond, you see tall spires, lakes, and rivers fringed with populations of small intelligent beings. This is to where the essence of faith is lazily descending.

“What is that place?â€? you ask in wonder, but you subconsciously know. I know you know, but still I answer “That’s where faith goes – do you recognize our school from here?â€?
You search for the old building with your eyes, and gaze intently at the splintering light wiggle and lodge itself throughout your world.

I know what you’re really looking at. “True, it’s fragmented, hidden, but there it dwells. There’s some left inside of you too.”

You glance down and see shards of color – sunrise yellows, robust reds, and you hear in the distance the conclusion of Greensleeves tolling:

�Ah, Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu,
To God I pray to prosper thee,
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.�

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