Friday, November 25, 2016

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