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A little fable. |
Little infant- flung from the haunts of sin , into the blackness without… Angel wings bear thee up- and waft thee , softly .. gently onto hard , stony ground… Soft zephyrs of the night - weave warm swaddling bands about thy shivering infant frame… The chill hands of death, stealing over thy tiny fluttering heart , freeze ...spell bound - quailing before thy gurgling innocence… Bereft of her cubs, the grieving she-wolf – drawn by a Power beyond her ken, tiptoes up, to give thee suck… The first rays of Dawn light up the skies. The rag-picker, swinging along that lonely trail whistling a merry tune , stumbles on thee cooing in the dust – that pearl beyond all price . Memories … fast withering, like succulence unplucked on the vine- Of thee , the Eternal Temptress darting smouldering glances through kohl –ringed eyes - a single slender garland , draping thy dark , lissome beauty. Writhing and weaving through the ageless rhythms , beneath the altar to the leering Monkey God- Thy being ,gripped by the Spirits of the Snake, flutters over manhoods , now rampant- raving … raging , for that blessed release… Alas ...but all too soon - smoky incense –laden airs, billowing from a thousand braziers, cast their pall over the scene …. Then – as Time stands hushed , the Light Eternal shines- blazing through the Dark . And the Spirit of the One True Cross floods through thy being.. The long years – years of trial ... of tribulation... wreak their terrible toll. Yet , the spirit - unbowed , wills the shell- frail .. withered ...bent double with age up the steep , carcass-strewn slope on to the Shining Peak. The soul , still lit by that first bloom of Youth - thrills to the beauty and wonder of those upland vistas - fast unfolding. Gruesome memories , that once seared the spirit- of wallowing in cesspools ,to eke a living.. foraging in garbage heaps , for scant morsels -to stay alive .. of whips that flailed through to the flesh…. of cudgels that broke through to the bone - fall away , as worn hide - moulting off the reptile back. Heart ringing to the music of Heavenly Choirs- you take that very last step … into the Beyond... ..The stars fall softly.. ..tenderly onto brutal , arid ground – and the hundred flowers bloom... ....All you craved were a few mouldy crusts- Yet He bequeathed you the flowers ..and those stars... |