Room is seeking its place in my agenda. I feel to make room for this Room I must commit one crime against my maladjusted self-perception - removal. Ceasing to assist this assassination causes only but one grave grievance - discontent. When we reveal this rhythm to the orchestral pit of pittance, there is relief of an unrelenting kind - redemption. Together we sing the sonnet of Eckhart that, in concert with compassion and gratitude, says come out of yourself and let God be God in you - poetry. So 'tis the removal of discontent is redemption, its poetry. That is the room where an absence of God is an invagination of insanity. For if this is a mouthful of honesty, the Room I beckon angels to prepare for me is already surrounding me and I cannot help but wait for my perception of God to collide with my perception of self.
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