There is a Golden Touch to what I say. More than the words, more than the structure, more than the thoughts, there is an invisible silent blessing from Me. You cannot hear it. You cannot see it. You cannot touch it. And yet My Golden Touch touches you.
Take all My words away, and My Golden Touch remains. Erase, and My love within Heavenletters remains like invisible ink. Take an eraser and erase My written words from your notebook, and still an impression is left. My words once spoken are spoken. What I say stands. Nothing topples it.
You well know by now that there is something greater than My words contained in these messages from My heart. As a matter of fact, My love is instantaneous and eternal and cannot wait for words. My words trail My love. They are an afterthought. My words are the aftermath of My love. And, yet, My love is everywhere, so how, then, can My love go somewhere, and how can it be followed? How can it linger when it can't go anywhere? And My love, which is eternal and timeless, how can it be louder or softer? There is no space to contain it and nowhere for it to go. What do words have to do with My love but to remind you of what is and has always been, even though how can My love be always when there is nothing less than always? How does the word "always" itself exist anymore than the word "never" when there is no time for them to be housed in? What meaning have words? Who can make sense of them? When there is permanence, how can there be impermanence?
You can look at My words without reading them, and they will reach you, just as all the colors of a rainbow affect you whether you look at them or not. What does not affect you, beloveds? Can any glance of Mine affect you less than a lollipop or a lovely breeze?
My words are like a little poke on your shoulder, bringing you to Awareness.
My words are like an idle hum I hum. I call My hum idle yet it can only be meaningful beyond hum. Rhythm has meaning. Rhythm makes you get up and move. Rhythm also helps you to lie down by still waters. How can rhythm make you get up and move when all that exists is the stillness of My love? Who or what can absorb My love and the stillness of the motility of it when it is already absorbed and has permeated you and everything, even though there is no you, and there is no everything inasmuch as only the Oneness of Love exists. There is no when. There is no sequence. How then can there be Cause? One thing does not follow another. Nothing comes before. And before what, anyway, when Love Alone exists?
What a Grand Illusion illusion is! What a lark of the world illusion has made. Of course, it is entertaining. Of course, it has drama. Of course, it is a play of a play of a play, which can only exist in illusion. You are an illusionist then, and you believe in your own tricks. You believe in your made-up illusions hook, line, and sinker.
How can justice exist when there is nothing for it to exist in but illusion? By the same token, how can injustice exist? Only in thought, can it.
Meanwhile, you live in illusion of your own making, and you keep yourself prisoner there when there are no bars. Where can you escape to when there is only you, when there is not even really you, when there really is Oneness Alone, and that's it?