Light is not the term I mean, rather it was a benevolent affulgence. Bathing in this luminescence, seemed to transmute me into pure living color, and suddenly I was in the rose watching it breathe and unfold from a bud into a flower, no matter how I tried I couldn't change the rose, it was, and is, itself. On gazing at a picture of Christ, I knew that the pain of the wounds on the head had been born for me, and I did not have to feel them again. Many experiences came to me in sequence thereafter. I felt like a butterfly emerged but newly from the chrysalis, I felt also that the church of God should exemplify itself only by love.
Words are such poor tools of expression.
The picture of the last supper seemed to express the eternal and I wept because I understood it, yet could not describe or express my understanding. At my disposal were all the great minds who ever have lived and all of these could attest to the wonder of the universe, could I but express what they were telling me, and what I knew to be true. I could not. It seemed to me that churches could not do anything to express this wonder either, since the human essence of being is beyond all dogma. This I saw also in the picture of Buddha, and the pelvic cradle through which all human life must pass.