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| ''Symbols' by Trish |
On either side of the rugged cross,
That lay on the floor, two large candles,
radiated light. and lent reverence to the splintered wood.
I sat down crossed legged and waited.
'Gently bring your hand's to rest, palms up'.
And so I did, and I saw this.
On my right palm rested, a coiled silver snake.
On my left palm, a coiled gold rope.
The slight weights, felt exactly the same.
As I watched and weighed this delicate balance,
Before my mind's eye, there appeared a large,
Black brooding bird, I felt it tap a restless, sharp, dance
over my heart, before it finally settled its, tomb silent presence,
In front of me.
As I stared into the pitch black, of its cold eyes,
I saw a flag of flame, flutter, first from their center,
And then from my own breast bone.The bird shifted uneasily,
But continued, for what felt to be, a long time, to cast its,
Watchful, brooding looks at me.
I saw, the bird's lids began to blink violently,
As did my own eyelids. The bird's eyes flared a circle of fire
and snapped shut, just as my own, opened wide.
It was as if I woke from a deep, vast place within myself.
And there in the center of it all, lay the rugged cross, and
the two large candles, still burning bright and steady,
In their bronze candle stick holders, steeped in the reverence,
of time.
And the coiled silver snake, on my right palm,
And the coiled gold rope on my left palm,
continued to gleam, in the candles glow.
Tushie 2002
