Three times this quote from the “Merchant of Venice”. The poem the prayer from Act IV, Scene one of Shakespeare’s play.
Such a strange night, and so strange a set of dreams. Songs I heard songs again after some years of silence. Spirit song,…Angels? How to describe them. Gentle rippling tones. If each drop of water in a stream were a soft chime that might be a shadow of a whisper of these songs.
That, and my dream version of Shakespeare’s prayer of Mercy.
When I woke up I wrote down what I could remember. It’s not the exact from the dream, but for me it was close enough.
“The quality of Mercy is not strained”,
Mercy, Mercy, Mercy, Mercy,
It falls from Heaven,
From Mercy falls Heaven,
Heaven is not strained,
Quality is not, not, not strained,
Heaven is Mercy,
Mercy is quality,
The quality of Mercy is not strained,
Heaven from it falls,
Mercy of Quality,
The Quality of Mercy falls from Heaven,
Such a dream sent to me? I no longer have faith in religion or it’s g-ds. So why are they still bothering me? What do they want this time? I gave, leave me alone. The songs,…yes they were so beautiful. I was happy to hear them again.
Yes all very nice.
However I just don’t know what to do with all these little miracles anymore. Thing is do they hear them. These Angelic ripples. Do they sense them in the world’s war zones hunger zones ignorance zones? Or the oblivious fat, and happy zones?
“Blessed are they who have not seen, but believe.”
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