Threshold

She stands in an open doorway leading to a long hallway

There is no sound

Her hair falls to her waist like finely woven strands of braided wheat

She wears a long sleeved white gown overlaid with a Scaffolding of delicate lace 

Fastened around her neck is a heavy necklace inlaid with Bands of Lapis Lazuli

A blue sash is tied around her waist

She is gently prompted to step inside

Once inside she finds herself moving slowly forward

And being compelled to look to her left and right

She knows...

There is no turning back, now

There is no turning away

She has stepped over a threshold

On the walls are painted murals of her past

Some are hushed and muted, blushing, soft 

Others are mutant schisms screaming

Out at her, savagely staining the canvas

Dark reds, black, indigo, violet

They tear into her soul  

She hears someone, 

"This is a time of Discovery,

This is a time of Reflection,

This is a time of Truth",

This is time to take ownership of oneself 

And accountability for your deeds both good and bad

This is the final stage of preparation

As your day of reckoning is drawing nearer

She is on the last leg of her earthly journey