An audience of none
I spied a Judas Moon yesterday, as I was driving home from work, a pallid orb fastened to the afternoon sky. I had a sudden urge to keep on going, to lose myself in the curdled russet and soft azure of fading light; to free myself from the earthly shackles that bind my feet to the ground.
Time has been wielding a silver chisel, whittling away at my bones and leaving behind hieroglyphics that only the angels themselves can understand. One day my bones will crumble to dust, and my soul will take flight like a startled bird, finally freed from it’s captivity.
Within the night time realm of dreams, lies a thin thread of recalled immortality, endless days spent among the stars and in the company of lesser gods. They whisper to me of another time, an existence not fractured by ticking clocks and a sense of hurry.
Enlightenment is a prize that goes not to the swiftest, but to those who no longer subscribe to the cruel edicts of the few.
Who are you? The wind inquires shaking me loose from my moorings,
I am every mother’s tear, every broken beggars dream, every haunting note issuing forth from an unfinished symphony.
On the day that I am re-born, I will shed my skin like an ill-fitting dress that has long out served its usefulness. I will swan dive off mortality’s cliff, piercing the dawn like a blazing arrow finding its mark. I will plumb the ocean’s depths so I may know all her secrets, I will wander amongst the stars and sleep nestled in the hollows of the dark side of the moon. I will fall down at the feet of Christ intoning, Holy,Holy, Holy, to Him in the Highest, my voice mingling with those of six heavenly seraphins.
Having lost my way a life time ago, I became a prodigal daughter. I wandered far and wide from my father’s house, a lonely Bedouin. Only the stars will guide me home on the appointed day.
All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
I tried to fill myself with things of this world but they only weighed me down. Now I want to relinquish them all, jettisoning them like ballast because they only served to hold me down. I want to empty myself of everything so that the wind can rummage at will through the shadowed corridors of my hollow bones.
On the day of my liberation,do not grieve for me. Scatter my ashes upon the breeze, and then turn away without once looking back.
I want only a single piper, silhouetted against a windy outcrop to bear witness to my passing, playing his pipes to an audience of none.
