The Stone Institute

A Photograph

A Photograph

It was not the Jewels she Cherished.
Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, Sapphires.
Necklaces, Bracelets, Rings, Pendants.
Each one, a Gift from a Cold-Hearted Man.
Each one, a Forgiveness of his Sins with Another.

She Painfully Traveled the Right Hand Path.
Thoughts of the Way it Ought to Be,
Clashed with the Thoughts of the Way It Was.
Evil use to Lurk in the Shadows near the Road most Traveled,
Far away from Her Sight.
Evil Now sat On Her Front Porch.
Leashed to Column near the Entry Way.

The Wind Whispered the Truth,
But She Denied the Voice in the Breeze.
She wanted Freedom from the
Rusty, Wrought Iron Cage Around Her Heart.

As the Full Moon Secured the Sky,
The Sun was Held Hostage by the
Divine Spirit of Truth.
Moonlight soothed her Divine Body
In the Darkness of Her Life.
As She Wondered out into the Meadow,
Holding her Holy Bronze Urn.
The Agony of Another Sunrise Frightened her,
The Flames of Fear Seared her Mind as the Ravens Watched.
She Denied the Past because It Did not Fit.
She Refused the Future because She wanted to Die.
Ashes and a Photograph were all that Were Left.
Cold, Crisp air Tingled as she Disrobed in the Field.

Naked She Looked up into the Sky,
Hoping to see Clarity in this Moment of Chaos.
Buried Deep within Her Mind,
Was the Choice she Made Before her Soul Died.
Moonlight Warmed her Shriveled Spirit.
She could feel the Sprouts of her Desires Emerge.
She took the Ashes from the Urn,
And Tossed them into the Wind.
Over and Over and Over Again.
The Wind Swirled Whispering the Truth. Louder!
She Could hear His Soothing Deep Voice Again.
Pitchers of Tears Poured from Her Eyes,
She Suffered Enough Joy.
She Celebrated enough Misery.

As She Dropped to Her Knees,
She Felt His Caress on her Bare Breasts.
He Uncased her Cold Shattered Heart.
His Warm Lifeless Lips Touched Hers.
Then the Winds Stopped Abruptly.
The Silence of the Night Returned.
She Reached Down and Looked at His Face.
A Photograph is All She had Left of Her most Holy Desire.
A Fantasy of Walking the Left Hand Path Holding his Hand.
A Far Away Choice that Would have Infused Divine Love.
She Felt her Lotus Open in the Bright Moonlight.
Only to Close Again before the Sun Rose Again.

Her Mind Floated Back to Her place of Slumber.
Alone in a Palace where Pentacles Rule.
Her King was Counting his Coins As Daylight Arrived.
Morning Brought with It an Eternal Aloneness.
A Disease that Infects only Those Dead Souls
On the Journey of The Right Hand Path.

Kevin S. "Kiki" Merigian © February 2016
Posted by Kevin Merigian at 12:17 PM
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