“I was once a veil simply separating God’s resting place from the onlooker’s views, shrouding the Glory of the Father from the eyes of man. A thick cherub-adorned curtain ornamented with purple, red, and blue colors whose richness and resonance of the eye was beyond compare. However, this day I am stained with a tear. This tear was my punishment; the cure for my separation of the grace of God from man. Before the split ensued upon me, I witnessed many years which, the numbers uncountable, where once every year the High Priest of the Temple would pass through me and offer atonement for the sins of the people of Israel, I loathed the days when my inner room would remain empty with only the Spirit of God occasionally resting in my inner dwellings, but that has changed now.
“And lo and behold on the darkest of days, that fearful Friday when the Son of God was erected upright onto a tree and whose blood flowed and stained freely, The Christ changed the countenance of the earth for all eternity. In the last moments of the Son, while Christ was hanging on the sacred tree with his life ebbing away with every heartbeat, I felt pressure on my countenance, as if someone or something was attempting to rip me, not from bottom to top as a man would, but from top to bottom, as some spirit would. Was it the Father, or the Cursed One? Every day I felt the evil one and his followers resist the Father’s wishes, they even tempted the Christ.
“In that moment, as I felt the Holy One’s Son’s spirit leave his body, a great earthquake shook all of Israel, and the Holy One tore me in two just as I had felt before Christ’s death. As I gathered my thoughts, all of the lower priests and even the common people could look into the inner room which I protected from man’s eyes, this certainly could not be the Father’s will! I felt broken, torn, as I indeed was, but as the people marveled, I realized the purpose of the Father doing this. He did not rip me as a sign of judgment on me or even the priests; he did it as a sign: a sign to show that Jesus Christ, His Son, had bridged the gap between the realms. It was a beautiful sight.”
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Dream Poem: The Veil of the Holy of Holies
HistoryczneThis is a story that I wrote as a story of when I had a dream where the Veil in the Holy of Holies relaid to me it's account of how it was torn, but in the view of the veil
