In slow deliberate motion a hand is raised and the 'voice of harmonious creation echoes an invisible world'. Brief glimpses of explicit beauty blend into detailed account as momentum rushes forward promising to fill the multitude of voids. Deep within, a heartbeat of authority gives way to an air of glorious delight and all is magnified through the vibration of stability.
A trickle of humor weaves a path along melodic wits of wisdom even as distant thunders of approval approach gently embracing complements from the most peaceful of chimes. Divine melody now swoops down and dances them all into harmony.
The very boundaries of joy fall away howbeit the revelation fails to even suggest 'what ear hath not heard.' Vanity assures that God himself will lend voice as surely we have returned to the garden in triumph.
Yet this most perfect flattery challenges the redeemer and has not prevented the tinniest of angels from stumbling as she pushes at the gate, the flowing chorus unable to help as her cries for Salvation are blended into the movement lest all be lost.
Even so, compassion descends as rhythmic authority rises to fill the void, stumbling over independent voices of surety locked in unison. Then... a silence! The smallest moment of pause becomes an eternity even as momentum crushes it asunder.
... A new hand now raised. Still deliberate yet somehow glorifying the base cries of the littlest angel.
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