| As you enter here the stillness and sanctity of the air is nearly overwhelming ... from a distance it at first appeared to be a ruins its ancient granite stonework nearly hidden by flowering vines, moss grows thick on the mortar between the stonework that is visable ... but as you stand now under the massive solid polished stone arch that provides entry to the dimly lit interior of the chapel you now realize there are bulwarks laid to castles of war that are not so solid nor stout as these venrable walls . Here there are no symbols of faith just a revrent hush and the glowing tounges of candles flicker a shadow dance of spectral form across the walls. insence lingers sweetly, soothing , mingling gently with the fragrance of night blooming jasmine and the smell of the melting beeswax from the candles . In your mind at the very edge of your consiousness you here a voice from a childhood long past but stil rememberd calming and reasuring speaking in soothing tones as a loving parent speaks to a child after the frightening fury of a storm ... yes it is obvious to you now that spirits reside here ...and here is a place to remember those gone before you ...and to tell them again of the love you bear them ...and to feel that wich they bear you ... all beliefs are welcome here ,here beyond your sight are doorways to all realms known to all faiths as heaven. Off in the corner to your left is a leather bound parchment tome resting on an intricately carved wooden writing desk. above the slanted book-rest shines a single candle a memorial scribed at the top of the exposed pages ... |
