Brownstonelit's Blog

2/15/11

The cardinals outside my window have been singing for two days now. A crow crossed the sky yesterday morning. Crows are messengers and Cardinals harbingers of important news.

There is much afoot in the cosmos this day. Pay attention dear friends… can you not hear the hoofs of the painted horse approach as the Grim Reapers begins to gather his minions and circle the camp? Each circle getting smaller and smaller till at last he divines we must square off- he and I. I can feel the thunderous reverberation of determined hoofs as they make each pass- branded forever by each hot breath of his steed as it pulsates against the back of my neck as he slowly begins to close the gap- teasing with my resolve. One revolution at a time… he weaves the darkness into his sheath, each pass getting slightly closer and closer.
I wait centered with Charley; he the gallant one stoic at my side… ready to do battle with the living. He calls out into the swirling darkness- “An eye for an eye- a tooth for a tooth, Grim. I am here to take you back to Hell. One truth… one lie at a time… till justice is all that stands between us.”

The painted horse stops in its tracks to consider the warning- his rider fidgets with the brittle reins now feeling the bite of an eternal flame. In the distance the wind chortles amongst the trees. It’s laughter has brought a new chill to the air and the ragged breaths from the horse’s mouth now frosts in mid-air and falls to the ground.

Another sound rises above the horizon. The steed pricks up his ears in the direction, but cannot decipher the code. It is truth. Unrecognizable to the dark side.

Can you not hear the apocalypse that is coming, Grim? One blade thrashing through the night sky after another- slicing through the air to make it bleed with the truth? Another one is dead. The crowd of conspirators thins each year, like the hair on the heads of the old men they now are. Soon you may be standing alone. Each comrade that has fallen has already met his maker with blood stains on his hands. Do you not know the heavenly fear they felt convulsing under their earthly bravado? Did you not see them quake at the edge of their graves when they realize the pit before them has not floor upon which to lay their weary bones… for they see no end to the fall and now know the endless realm of Hell they now descend into?

Guilt knows no bounds- its rancor no margin.

The painted horse pants and chomps at the bit to charge. The rider poised on the edge of reason considers his immediate options…

To slay or be slain?

“Another day… another day,” he sighs, while his painted steed snorts its frustrations in unison. The Grim Reaper decides. The odds are no longer in his favor. He will make the ride again another day. And Charley and I? We will still be standing here waiting- centered in the truth, centered in ourselves-ready for the fight.

This entry was posted on February 15, 2011 at 2:02 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.