Eyes Laughing From Silence, "You have walked this narrow bridge between reality many times, what is your fear."

"I'm met someone."

"Don't get attached. These journeys are not only for healing yourself but to acquire power that was lost."

"I know. But…"

"You have looked too much to the right side of the road."

"He's beautiful."

"You will fall again, if you stray from the path. A roadside attraction could lead to many lives of wasteful pursuits."

"We have had this conversation before."

"When you crossed this narrow bridge between dimensions, it is like a dance, even in your fear; you used it as a instrument of power. Now, what distracts you? You cannot walk the bridge if your attention is scattered."

"Will I always be alone and not have a companion? Will this just be one journey after another? I understand the purpose but my heart…there is still an emptiness."

Michael sat on a tombstone throne, with bound feet.

"You can't stay here," Vanessa said.

"Mother?"

"You are not supposed to be here."

"This is where dead people live."

"It's a graveyard. You're still alive."

"Never was alive, that's the problem."

"Get off that tombstone Michael. Don't write your name on it."

"Even in New York during my dark night of the Soul, an underworld Lord wanted me to be a consort. Someone always interested in making me a Queen."

"I heard you crying just like New York. It's happening all over again. Thought you'd put the pieces together and not let your mind become a breeding ground for the Dark Ones. They are determined to use you as their tool for the Harvest."

"Well, here I am and not much use to anyone."

"It's not over," Vanessa said empathically.

"I sliced my wrist."

"You are what you choose."

"When did I have a choice? I've been abandoned. I've been exiled. No matter what worlds I wander through, I'm always crying out for forgiveness, for love, and not to be exiled the Throne."

"You can't stay here."

"This is my home now." "As long as there is death, I will be here to help others who will get lost, confused, and scream to the Heavens for deliverance. How many times have we bargained with God and then found ourselves reneging or coming up short in our expectations of others so we say God didn't fulfill the contract we offered him." Pause. Thinks. "Maybe I must know suffering to understand the pain of others. Be in solidarity. Everyone wants me to be a deliverer, a messiah, a birthing goddess but how can I help anyone when I don't understand their suffering and taking on the mantle of humanness maybe is about suffering the illusion of separation. Maybe this death is necessary to know life."

"You're home is with the living."

"You didn't want me home. When I ran through the streets of New York crying for your love, I heard your voice, saying "Who is this child that keeps calling out to me?"

"Stop being human and accept what you are," Vanessa shouted angrily at him.

"What I am?" He laughs. "Everyone is concerned about what I am as long as they benefit from it."

"You will bring a dark cloud among the living if you stay here. You have no ideal the power of your mind. This will be your Heaven and Hell."

"I know I was given an existence to bring death into existence. So, now I shall rule this land of the dead to bring them life. I can't do any worst than the others. I suffered with the living. Guess I'll suffer with the dead."

"In this state of being I am more than your human mother. When I return to full consciousness I will not remember. And the human part of me will mourn a wasted life; a life not lived to its full potential."

"This demon Lord asked me in New York, "Why won't you look at me?" Everyone sees me with eyes that are blind."

"You are not meant to rule the underworld."

"Not the best neighborhood. Residents are questionable. But I seem to get along well with the waste of society. What you shit becomes my garden of Eden."

"You can't stay here Michael, come home. You don't' have to suffer like this. You are a light unto yourself. End these mindless dramas. Take my hand; let me lead you back from this darkness."

"Somehow the darkness knows me better than you mother. Remember I tried to come home before."

"I did what any human mother would do," Vanessa replied defensively. "Find be come a martyr for pain if you must. But it has frozen you. You are like a statute. You talk about understanding, suffering, do you know compassion? Do you really know life? You sit there so grand, so forlorn; yet even in your suffering you are beautiful." She begins to walk away, "Don't make existence so fatalistic."

A wind blew across scattered leaves. "Look at my thoughts, the wind has picked up. They are dead but they will fertilize the ground and something new will grow. When I am finished with being this monarch to the dead, then I will fertilize the ground. Until, then, I am a Death Goddess."

"Maybe you should have stayed with us when you returned from New York. But we could see in your eyes, you were in many places and not the one." Pause.

"I cannot live the life you envision."

She walks away and fades as she gets farther away from Michael.

"Momma," he said in a childlike voice. "The Voices promised me I could go home, if someone said they loved me. But so many people have bastardized that word love. Love and fuck are so interchangeable in people's mind. You fall in love; you don't rise. Love is synonymous with pain and people crave pain. We have tarnished a word we don't understand. "Someone," he said softly "love me."

The wind moaned. Whispers began to rise from the graves surrounding Michael's tombstone throne. "I will close the books. I will close all books that have bound me to a monotheistic god, a jealous god, a phallic god. I will close the books that have chained the feminine to a phallic cross. I will close the books of The Dead and Dreaming Gods. I will close The Book of the Ancients."

 

As Michael approached the first gate, there was a statute on either side like pillars. Each statute represented a torch bearer; one had the torch pointing upward, the other downward. He knew this represented the descent of the Sun into the underworld and the resurrection of the Sun.

 

I cannot name myself. What I am to say is for no human ears. Do not read any farther if you have not seen the light in the darkness. Where light once feared to look is where I sleep? I cannot name the place for it is everywhere but no where. It is the dark part of human nature that dreams arises from.

I sit before the cave where the Divine Will of the Ancient One sleeps. I sit holding the Book of the Mouths. Every utter that has been spoken is written on the pages that were made from the flesh of the Mother. I must recite the words before the Mirror Door.

Soon the light will shine through. Light will know Life and becoming living information, become self aware.

The border of the door has writings that have been clawed into the frame works. Faces upon faces cover the door and within the center is a great Eye that is sleeping.

I sit with the Book of the Mouths and I hold the book up in front of the door. The Book of the Mouth speaks. The ground below me trembles. A great thundering occurs in my head. The faces on the door fall upon me like a plague. A dark scaly serpent erupts from my mouth. My flesh burns with a fire that is not seen. Yet I stand in my vigil before the Tomb Door of the Divine Will of the Ancient One. I must awaken the Androgyny. The faces upon the door that have become my flesh are now living and speaking. They are the Oracles, the dark voices from the depths of creation; yet are the veil that is on the face of the One Without Voice.

Stories are unfolding on my flesh. I am nothing yet everything. Thunder echoes in my head. Lightning flashes within me. The serpentine road I must walk is revealed in from of me. Demons of unimaginable horror rise on each side of the path carrying the smell of flesh without spirit.

I move closer to the door; yet, each step is planetary. Yet, each step is a sound. Yet, each step is walking down stairs. My breath spirals. My flesh is full of faces. Yet, I stand vigil with Book of the Mouths raised above my head, as the book is chanting; and yet, I am walking the serpent road, twisting and turning to get to the Door, awaken the Divine Will of The Ancient One.

The Great Mother is in a nightmare.

The Will must stir her from her death sleep.

I must name the Enemy so the Enemy will not know itself as I pass through the Gates that will reveal what has slept before Man.

What is man but what is sleeping.

The Abomination becomes the Redeemer who sleeps in the tomb.