The interior place where we experience God is the same kind of place and as real as the place here we experience music and poetry.
~ by Karen Armstrong
Her eyes were kindled from the lamps of Heaven.
Her voice reached through me, tender, sweet and low:
An angel's voice, a music of its own.
And in the center, great wings spread apart,
more than a thousand festive angels shone,
each one distinct in radiance, and in art.