She watches the elderly woman’s slow painful movements. Each step requiring concentration and diligence. ‘Have you been here long?’ The tall striking woman with blonde hair and piercing green eyes asks. ‘Some time, not long though,’ her answer comes from a distant place, almost like she is merely musing out loud. Her eyes still fixed on the old woman who is hobbling across the con-course, seemingly invisible to the swarm of shoppers bustling all around her.
‘May I sit?’
‘You may.’
The blonde takes a seat directly opposite her.
‘You know why you’ve been summoned don’t you?’ Said the blonde, her question seeming to fall on deaf ears but she awaits a response. ‘Rachel!’ She demands, a pale green flame ignites, flashing across her lush green eyes, extinguishing seconds later.
‘No need to be abrupt, Gabrielle!’ Rachel says bearing a smile, but her sky blue eyes cackle with pale blue sparks of their own, like a fuse when it’s ignited.
‘I said do you?’
‘I know what you said, and no I don’t know why I’ve been summoned,’ Rachel said extending her gaze to Gabrielle for the first time, before returning to the sight of the woman.
‘There has been some concern regarding your…obsessions with the people. There are those who feel it is not entirely…wholesome,’ Gabrielle says, conscious of the art of diplomacy.
‘Is it not wholesome to love them? To watch over and care for them with diligence?’
‘It is not appropriate to obsess,’ Gabrielle replies, a sharpness in her tone. Rachel does not respond; she watches as the old woman comes to a stop in front of a wooden bench, turning as cumbersome as an oil tanker in harbor, before carefully lowering herself onto the seat.
‘I know what you’re thinking, go do it if you must, so long as I have your full attention afterward,’ the invasive telekinesis ricochets around Rachel’s mind, causing her eyes to meet Gabrielle’s penetrating gaze once more. Without word, she stands and begins to walk across the con-course towards the woman. On her approach she can feel her old tired heart race from a life-time of exertion. She feels the labor of her lungs in drawing breath, the tremendous heat emitting from her arthritic joints. ‘Excuse me love, I don’t mean to bother you but I was just wondering if you are okay?’ She asks while placing a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder.
‘Yes I’m fine dear… jus’ resting my feet, but thanks for asking,’ says the old woman through panting lungs while looking up at Rachel. Her skin is transparent grey, exposing veins that have long ago turned purple, her eyes are fearful, not of Rachel, but of the unknown that seems to be around every corner. ‘Okay, just checking, you have a nice day now,’ Rachel said while wearing a warm reassuring smile. As she walks away she feels the amazing relief her brief touch has brought, followed by a sublime joy and the evaporation of fears, worldly or otherwise.
‘It’s beautiful when they rejoice isn’t it?’ Gabrielle says, feeling elevated by the woman’s state. ‘I think they’re beautiful as they are on any given day,’ Rachel says, causing Gabrielle to eye her cautiously. ‘What filled with inner conflicts? Fears; jealousies, hatred, guilt and all manner of sorrows, so much pain to contend with, it’s such a pity.’
‘There is nothing pitiful about them. They bare daily the kind of agonies we are fortunate enough to have immunity from, but would crush us if we were to bare them,’ Rachel counters. ‘So you admire them for their suffering?’ Gabrielle enquires.
‘No…I love them for it,’ she whispers in awe.
‘That’s the problem.’
‘And do pray tell; how is my love the problem?’ Rachel says, her voice betraying indignation. ‘You don’t love them; you’re in love with the suffering of their fallen state. Tell me what would you do should they return to the state of grace like us?’ The question causes Rachel pause. ‘I’m not sure, I’ve never known them in it…not that I really need to imagine such a thing, is their return to grace pending?’
'No, it’s not very probable at the moment,’ Gabrielle sighs, the confession allowing a rare moment of anguish her kind are not exempt from feeling.
‘I thought so; they don’t deserve such relentless tribulation.’
‘Blaspheme!’ Gabrielle shouts while slamming her fist down on the table. Other diners turn to look, but a roaring green fire in her eyes disorients until they forget anything has happened. She draws a deep breath and centers herself once again.
'Thread carefully, Rachel, the old adversary began with similar rhetoric,’ Gabrielle warns.
‘How dare you compare me to the abomination!’ Rachel’s blue eyes ignite, her expression borders on vengeful. ‘He was nothing but hateful. He hated humanity, hated serving them, hated those who took pleasure in service to them, and, hated the great “I AM” for decreeing that servitude. I have no such hate, only love for them.’
‘You think your talk is so much different from the adversaries? Surely I tell you your motives are apart from each other, but, the pride is the same.’
‘Pride?’ Rachel asks slightly amused.
‘Is it not prideful to think your love is more perfect than Elohim’s?’ Said Gabrielle with the great satisfaction every chess player the world over knows as check-mate.
‘No…I don’t…think…’ Rachel says flustered, struggling to grasp at the right thoughts and feelings, the way a drowning person frantically thrashes in their struggle for air.
'Remember you’re not the one who was born among them, grew through their terrible growing pains, engaged in fellowship with them, endured the entire spectrum of their experience, and then some. You’re not the one who loved them so much, and resolved to be a perfect sacrifice for their reconciliation, and, had to experience murder by their hands,’ she pauses so as to lean close to Rachel, ‘And surely I tell you this, not any lash of the whips nor scourging by the mob, nor spike impaled hurt the lamb. No, the true trauma inflicted upon the lamb was per rejection by them.’
They sit in silence as Rachel meditates on Gabrielle’s speech. ‘Do you know from whence I came?’ She asks finally breaking their pact of silence. ‘No, do pray tell.’
‘There’s a woman, one of many for whom I’ve a particular fondness. I was with her at the appointed hour, the early hours of this morn. She woke from her slumber, troubled by a deep disturbance within her being. I followed as she made her way to the crib of her new-born. I witnessed a substantial part of her die once she saw the pale pallor of the child. Its mouth agape, its chest lame, arms stretched over head almost in surrender. I listened as her heart and mind wailed to the almighty for help…to make it not be so, to be a nightmare instead. Do you know what she did?’ Gabrielle shook her head in solemnity.
‘She didn’t wake her husband or call the emergency services for help. No need, her child was a part of her, she knew it had passed and there was nothing that could be done. Instead she delicately took up her child’s lifeless body, taking it inside her robe so its cold flesh might know her warmth one last time. Silently she wept, so powerful was her weeping I’ve felt no comparison even in the seismic quaking of the earth’s plates. I sat with her throughout, I knew all it would take is one touch from me and her pain would transform, she might even find some acceptance…but I couldn’t, her grief was so raw and potent. I felt I would be depriving her of something special had I interfered. So I sat with her until the sun rose, giving birth to a new day, we heard her husband begin to stir, then I left. So, I will ask the question her heart wailed in agonized chants. Why?’ Her expression is a blend of defiance and anger; it is her turn to experience the sensation of check-mate and Gabrielle’s turn to feel chagrin.
‘I know it’s not easy for you, your choir is a young breed. The things you speak of are not Adonai’s doing. When the opponent rebelled, his corruption infected all creation, particularly the material plane. Death entered along with all its pre-cursor ailments and symptoms. Even heaven was not exempt, war was waged, celestial combatants killed, resigning each other to graves reserved for mortals. Even now the residual effects are felt, that’s why your choir was conceived and born, so that you may aid the clean-up of spiritual Chernobyl.’
‘I did not ask for a lesson in history, I asked why?’ Rachel demanded, forcing a sigh from Gabrielle. ‘Because they allowed themselves to be tempted, and chose the fruit of the adversary, and, until they unanimously choose to partake of the fruit from the tree of life, things will continue to progressively worsen in their world.’
‘But why bother, I mean Elohim is all powerful, why not just un-do the work of the cursed one?’
‘Because, for Yahweh to “click” fingers, so to speak, and un-do what has been done, would be to allow the cursed one a posthumous victory. It would be tantamount to admitting his perverse propaganda that they are filthy wretches who cannot even perceive true life when it’s put in front of them, let alone deserve it…no, the divine drama must be allowed to run its course. Humanity must decide the election by their own free will, who was right about them, the lamb or the accuser,’ Gabrielle answers before once again returning to silence.
‘What were they like before?’ Rachel asks. The question gives birth to a loving expression on Gabrielle’s countenance.
‘Think of very young children, joy was effortless to them. They were completely uninhibited beings. Any act that could be even remotely construed as mean spirited would have been purely accidental, but, wouldn’t have really mattered because just like very young children, forgiveness came as naturally as breathing. Then they truly were magnificent in their beauty…before the ego was born. You know, the cursed one may have been vanquished, but there’s no denying his partial victory. In his quest to be God, his mechanism for mimicking the three aspects of deity was pure genius. The ego allowed him to be omnipresent, wherever they are so too is he. Omniscient, whatever they knew or experienced so did he, and, omnipotent, there’s no denying the power the ego has had over nearly all of them who have ever lived,’ she said enjoying the nostalgia.
‘But they can still be like that sometimes, and that’s despite everything they must endure. That’s what I love about them, the dull embers of the divine amongst the ashes of their wickedness, surely that makes them all the more special now?’ she argues.
‘Miracles,’ Gabrielle concedes. ‘But unlike the miracles of old, these are too far and few between.’
‘But if we just revealed ourselves, if Adonai reveal…’
‘Let me stop you right there, the great “I AM” has never hidden from them and neither have we for that matter. The problem is in their unwillingness to perceive the divine even when in physical contact with it. Did you not just approach that woman and perform a healing, only for her to mistake you as a charitable stranger? How many times have you worked in plain sight among them, only to become an afterthought? Later they may ask of themselves, “who was that woman? Where did she come from?” or “What are the odds of what just happened of actually occurring?” we are reduced to the status of good Samaritan, or just good old fashioned dumb luck.’
‘Yes but if we mentored the righteous among them and maneuvered them into positions of real power and influence, we could bring about serious and lasting change in their world instead of being so…passive,’ her point of view causes a very human shiver to course through Gabrielle.
‘What you are speaking of could never be achieved without some degree of interference with free will.’
‘Well if it would mean saving their world, maybe it’s right…and there are others in the choir who’ve expressed similar sentiments to me,’ Rachel said with her head bowed, her admission making her feel naked and exposed. ‘Blasphemer!!! Vile, treacherous, prideful blaspheme!’ Gabrielle scorns.
‘You see this is the problem, anytime new ideas or dialogue is expressed to ye of the original choirs, it’s always condemned as blaspheme!’ Rachel said feeling her anger rise, defeating any feeling of timidity within her.
Gabrielle’s eyes narrow. ‘I’ve heard all this before from the vanquished one, and when he acted on his festering insanity, the results were catastrophic for all of creation! If you or any of your choir interfere with free will or try and usurp our lords will in anyway, it shall be an act of war against the creator and the created!’ Gabrielle said, spitting the words out as if they tasted like septic flesh. She rose to her feet and turns to leave, ‘Gabrielle wait!’ Rachel pleads. ‘Get behind me, Shatan!’ She answers over her shoulder before walking away, disappearing into the throngs of shoppers.
I was so happy to see you in my feed :) And I had good reason, it seems, as this was truly wonderful. Magnificent writing (and I don't say that easily), beautiful, raw...and heartbreaking. I hope you keep writing for a long time. Very much enjoyed.
@honeydue, you are quite literally, the best!
<3 I enjoy your writing and I try to help as I can. Through a kind word or maybe getting someone else to see your work :D It's my pleasure.
I agree with @honeydue, a really nice piece...Thank you.
Thank you for taking the time to read & comment.
I'm delighted to see you're getting a bit of attention. You certainly deserve it. This is a beautiful piece of writing.
Hi Deirdy!
First, thank you for your kind words.
Second, well, any traction is owed in great measure to your curious eyes ; )
That's very true. Thank you @deirdyweirdy, I would've never found this wonderful writer if it wasn't for you <3
This post was shared in the Curation Collective Discord community for curators, and upvoted and resteemed by the @c-squared community account after manual review.
Congratulations @soullesssentient! You have completed the following achievement on the Steem blockchain and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :
Click on the badge to view your Board of Honor.
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOPDo not miss the last post from @steemitboard: