Behold, an awakening from a slumber. A trumpet was blown, followed by another as the alto, and another soprano to complete the blend. The drum rolls and comes the heavy beats of the timpani with the boom of a bass drum and other percussive. Some fine woodwinds and brass from here and there. Then came the clash of the gong, in which the strings continued their soft and warm sustain.
A splendid score indeed, truly a masterpiece. It has quite powerful dynamics that may wake your passive consciousness and that may make your heart skip a beat.
---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~---
The resonating music continues... as THE PSALMIST joined in,
~~~
"Come ye, come all
In His Courts, vacuous
Stupefying, stupendous,
~~~
Extravagant, prodigious
Trumpets & strings,
Lilts, mellifluous
~~~
The heart, the cynosure
Beaming, bedazzling, luminous
The POTTER's realm, that's His
Come ye, come all"
---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~---
We're now at a realm none have heard of. To a time long ago, none have known. But its setting, I'll let you know.
His Courts is just like the setting in a classroom but bigger and grandeur like a king's throne room. The creatures are in rows and columns at the center. And in front, like a teacher, we will see POTTER. Like a king, great and mighty is he.
Everything and everyone are shades of white, and we can only distinguish each by their forms and shapes. Everything was bright, but not as bright as the one seated in front.
Let us not dwell in the courts' portrait of splendiferousness, for the one seated on the throne is much more superb than His Courts.
Have you experienced that scenery where in a shop there are full of cool and useful devices that are known for their names, but there's just one particular gadget towering over them all at the display stand, that grabs the attention of all that came, for it is the brand-new tech of the century? All lips are just talking about it and all eyes are just fixated on its magnificence. That's how we can describe the attraction in His Courts.
Nothing in the court can compare the splendor of POTTER. Like a silhouette, but not dark at all. Silhouette of shining flares where no shadows can conquer.
Actually, no one, not even The Psalmist, nor The Narrator, nor you, cannot (or should not) look at POTTER's face directly. Try looking directly at the sun when it's up high, on second thought, don't ever do that, 'cause that would be foolish. For if someone foolishly looks directly at POTTER with their bare eyes, they will not only be deprived of their sight but will quickly fall asleep, never to wake up again, never to see any light again.
"Whoooh..." POTTER gave an earth-shattering blow, that if it is blown in our motherland, it may create a gargantuan tornado.
In front of him is HIM. HIM's chest was filled with air as POTTER blows through him which made his robes move rapidly in different directions.
A figure of a well-built man beholds our point of view. Try stretching your hand in front of a light bulb. You may not be able to see your fingernails, their wrinkles, or the overall details of your hand. But you can still see its figure which covers parts of the bulb's bright light. That's how we can describe HIM's image for now. For we are looking at his back where we can see the POTTER's bright light in front of him. Although even HIM is bright, nothing can compare to the brightness of his molder.
With the POTTER's authoritative voice, he said, "HIM. Rise, my dear friend."
POTTER's image I may not (or cannot) be able to share (for reasons you knew already), but I can happily tell you about his voice.
His voice is like the law. It's as if every word he says is a command. Even THE PSALMIST accepts that POTTER's voice tells a different story, greater than his, he can't compare.
If you can still remember the voice of THE PSALMIST, then POTTER's voice is more ravishing. If THE PSALMIST is the guitar, then POTTER is the notes himself with power that resounds even in an acoustic room. POTTER's voice is higher that no mountains can reach, deeper that no oceans can contain, and wider that no universe can compare. It is always the absolute truth.
But within his voice, is a loving tune. It's like the melody of a young man courting his lover through harana on a romantic night. And if you can still remember the voice of your mother singing her lullaby to you when you were just a baby, humming that sweet soft calming familiar song, then it's like that. For his heart is like his voice, but even more pure and unconditional, none can compare to this world.
HIM opened his eyes and slowly moved his lips.
"HIM? That's a cool name," praised HIM.
"For you were molded like the ones that came before you, the ones that I hold dear. That's why HIM is the name that I'll be giving you," explained POTTER with a smile so tender (if we could only see his face).
HIM replied with a bow, "Thank you, POTTER, my dear friend."
"In the beginning, I created something awesome. Now it's your beginning, make something awesome," POTTER declared, "For your joy will not be complete if you do not heed the call. For this is your purpose..."
HIM fervently listened to the instruction of POTTER...
"... now, you will be my hands and feet for this mission..."
---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~--- ---~~~o~~~---
THE PSALMIST reiterated through another song,
~~~
"Aghast, a vacuous sheet
Behold, a voice, comely strokes 'n beat
Features patterns and shapes, 'twas a feast
A painting from its original manuscript
Drawing colors, 'twas a great feat
~~~
In the beginning,
The POTTER has spoken and was done
In shinin' shimmering splendor,
He created something awesome
~~~
In front,
In His Courts,
Reflects HIM's image
And the POTTER says,
"Now, it's your beginning,
Make something awesome"