May She walk in light. May She walk in iniquity. Though they pave over Her holy Paths, may She walk. Running is no longer enough, and standing still never was. The lines in the sand washed away in the rains but left scars on the backs of the people. The Door would not open. The Windows would not shut. The wind denied us, the snows surprised us, and the seasons refused to change until we admitted our transgressions. The key that fits many locks broke off at the threshold. The walls crumbled like the dawn breaking. The men from town built them up again, higher than heaven and lower than sin. They told us to pay them for the favour, and all we had to offer was our loss. They said it would be enough, and wandered off muttering incantations. Then She spoke, and the Way revealed itself again for the first time.
No comments:
Post a Comment