Margaret and I visited St. Marks Basilica in Venice.
It was beyond verbal description.
It was a place that begged your soul to feel God.
The tourists had no souls as they visited.
"There's a lot of ways to kill a man.
There's a lot of ways to die.
Yes, and some already dead who walk beside you."
She lay covered as in a shroud at the exit of the basilica where thousands upon thousands of people passed, many not giving her so much as a glance. Her arm outstretched, holding a worn paper cup.
She was praying more then begging. She was Jesus himself. She was more beautiful then any treasure of the basilica, yet I only saw her hand. Most stepped over her as they determined she was not worth a glance. May God not step over us.
You can have your coffee two ways in Levanto, Italy; espresso and americano, but we cannot live our lives two ways. God sees our heart. Make it a good one.