On Friday, December 23, 2005 @ 1:30 AM, i found myself enjoying the busyness of Sinbad; the name of a hostel in Istanbul, Turkey where i wrote the following:
Seated behind me the owner of a hostel in Istanbul snores away today's successes as the world calls to fill the vacancy of Christmas & New Years. The excursion, for some, is made only to get away from a Christian holiday in their home country explains a young man to an Australian couple.
On my left stands a deformed Christmas tree with colorless lights and an ancient space heater that mutters while it pretends to keep me warm. The smell that welcomes me is a nose-full of cigarette smoke, butts burning away like unattended wood in a fireplace. i hear white noise, the sounds of a lost people in lost conversation just outside the window.
Soon the well known speakers will open their mouths from the great palaces of Istanbul. The call to prayer will begin. This last call to prayer exists in a world where the mosque is your "closet" and the chants from empty hearts are your "tongues."
...But who's listening?
Imagine this world where more than 14 million of HIS children roam the streets in search of a FATHER? Who will tell HIS children that they are searching? A life risking 2,000 few. Saints who choose to breathe the life of HIS breath and not be choked by the smoke of their own.
...Is this your world?
Perhaps it is, but does your world call you to prayer 5 times a day? Does your world yearn for more than empty palaces or unfulfilled dreams of a holy pilgrimage? Where does your spirit travel? In what temple does your spirit worship? How many are in search around you that you don’t tell
1 Matchstick + A World of Deadwood =
Who will ignite the FLAME?
2 be continued...
*i'm taking matches with me to Thailand!