Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Death In A Garden


"The world knows no bounds.
"We will not know the world.
"This is for our sins. 
"Yours are stained with red."*  
They chanted these words, declaring their choice to leave.

They would not fight Malevolence - that which pulsed malignant darkness.

Our kin, whom we loved,
our kin who chanted the damning words, 
had found the Truth intolerable.
They wanted their blissful ignorance back, 
for all that they knew had been shattered,
their Eyes forced open into Awareness at the Great Council, 
and it broke them,
broke them because in their pride and pain,
they would not enter the healing spaces. 

Their Hearts had failed them and so they chose to leave, 
to leave their World, their Realm, 
the only space of existence they have ever known to love, 
to leave without a fight, and worse, 
to leave without a healing, 
to leave as they are, 
unhealed, infected,
knowing, knowing without wanting to know, 
that the spores of Malevolence had infected them secretly and quietly, 
just as it had infected nearly everyone else,
and grown well.

For many cycles of everlasting to everlasting, 
the spores had grown quietly,
by near infinitesimal degrees, 
seeking to slowly move into the Heart of Benevolence, 
of True Love Eternal, 
and end it.

One of the kin leaving spat words,
"We leave because of you, 
because of the malignancy you have shown us that we bear within. 
We hate you because you destroyed our happiness. 
And so we leave to reclaim our happiness, 
away from you and your ungodly ways."
And with a flourish, turned away, 
and they all chanted again, turning away, 
"The world knows no bounds.
"We will not know the world.
"This is for our sins. 
"Yours are stained with red."*   
They crossed the threshold just beyond the rim of home,
away from love, away from hope,
never to return,
damning themselves,
and leaving only the echo of their chant behind.

. . . 

Witnessing the exodus,
Alrose had stood tall, resolute, 
wearing their womanly form, their aura a gentle rose pink.
Fingers threaded together atop their solar plexus,
they bore the accusations, the spite, the anger, the hate,
feeling every cut deep within their tender soul.  

When the act of witnessing ended,
so, too, did their composure.
Alrose collapsed to their knees, 
overcome, wracked with sobs.
Clutching their Heart, they cried out,
Unable to maintain cohesion.

Alrose sundered. 
Where there was one, there was now two.
Amaranth Rose stared at her twin brother, 
the other half of her soul, Lotus Rose.
Tears streaked down their faces.
They grasped one another's hands,
crying fresh tears,
still seeking comfort in one another.

The Red Bull of Lotus Rose approached his friend and maker. 
The Red Cow of Amaranth Rose approached her friend and maker. 
And together they comforted them in their grief -
the grief of doing what was necessary to preserve, 
to heal, to grow, True Love Eternal.



*words from the song, Death in the Garden, by Lowercase Noises

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