The Rome Prophecy

12

I am blessed by Her now.

Blessed by Mother.

In death She became life so that in ashes I may become spirit.

The spirit of Mother and those of my sisters are with me.

Henceforth they will always be with me and I with them.

This is how it is meant to be – how it was written – how it will always be. We are followers of the Great Books and writers of the future. Their word is our truth and our words are the truth of their tomorrows.

My sisters lead me through the darkness to Her house, to the great temple that lies at the magical confluence of three pathways in a womb-shaped clearing.

It is gated above ground and guarded below by the Galli.

I can hear drumming, dancing and chanting as we enter.

The Korybantes pound spears against shields and stir the air with their nimble steps.

A deep thumping beat flows through the bodies of all those gathered. We are touched by the unseen.

Mother has become the rhythm.

Mother the heartbeat.

She becomes the air and penetrates our skin.

She flows through our blood and our organs and makes us quiver with Her power.

My heart trembles as Her sound presses into me.

Mother is invisible, like the start of the rain.

Mother is all powerful, like the pull of the ocean.

Mother cleanses and renews us throughout our life and our death.

The sisters of the mortal world look frightened.

They should not.

Mother will care for them. Mother will transform them.

Feet apart, they stand in innocence and clumsily begin their incantations. Uncertain hands touch genitals, wombs, hearts and foreheads.

Hesitant fingers stretch to the sky and reach out to Her.

Soon She will reach out to them.

We will eat from the drum.

We will drink from the cymbal.

We will be immortal.

This is how it is written.

This is how it will be.