The weather is cool, and the air is crisp. Spring is here. The time of renewal. Peace among the ruins. Green shoots from the ashes of destruction.

Words can heal. They can make the lame walk and the blind see. They can soften the hardest heart. There is a magic to words.

‘Never a man spake like this man,’ said the Temple Officers.

The people gathered together during the plague. Sorrow and suffering surrounded the Earth. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Gnashing teeth emits the strangest sound. ‘Grating, squeaking, clicking, or crunching as teeth rub together. People sought gold…a golden calf…a symbol that would calm their frazzled nerves. Some were rich beyond their dreams…yet poor and impoverished in spirit. Televisions could not be made big enough to satisfy the desire to replicate the old-time movie houses. Young men broke bones in their faces to reassemble their appearances. Life was lived on the internet. Friends were there, and some were AI. What people read or saw on social media was accepted as the truth.

‘The Word is real, the Preacher said. ‘Take off your shoes, you are holy ground,’ the Preacher said. ‘God spoke our world, and all that surrounds it into existence,’ the Preacher noted. ‘Simple words have little effect until the Holy Spirit touches them,’ the Preacher explained. ‘Words touched by God move the hearts of women and men and children,’ the Preacher said with a strong voice. ‘Many of us have waited for years to hear the words of God…listen when you recognize it…It is a mysterious, majestic blessing,’ the Preacher said.