04 Jun Crimson Angel; Sunshine Dance
As sunlight filters through the vermilion curtains, the walls glimmer in the summer light. I see the sun through the curtains beaming like a firefly set high in the cerulean sky. The rays spread to the deep burgundy floor, which shimmers in the sun. My toes capture the warmth, which floods steadily through my body like humidity.
My bed, entranced by daylights rays, seems to smile at my wardrobe, as a drowsy sunbather might do on a temperate day out of the sun. Minute particles of dust waft in and out of view like dancing, glittery fairies, very much alive for their daytime parties. Photographs on the wall, though some cracked, many a tie caught me reminiscing over times now lost, though memories staying fresh incessantly, never decaying. They, too, seem at ease basking in the majestic suns beam.
Today, I had the blessing of time and was able to arise from my slumber naturally and bask in the lazy light, warm breeze, and shadows dancing along my cotton sheets. I stretched into my Reclining Goddess Pose and basked in the aroma of rich, black coffee. Today, there is no rush. Today is my day and it is open to possibilities. Today, I awoke with a sense of euphoric bliss and I wanted to linger in that feeling for as long as possible; without the shackles of time.
I have frequently passed a hidden wood sign along the highway, tarnished and decayed by the weathering of time. Drift Wood. The sign proclaims, “Biblical Gardens” in white, chipped paint. This majestic place has always intrigued me. In the spirit of today being “my day,” I have determined this shall be my destination: this will be my place of inspiration, sanctuary, and adventure. Today will be my release and the day I symbolically “let go.” I will let go of the grief and guilt that have wracked my soul daily for the past eight months; the tightness in my chest each time I close my eyes and see my Mother’s beautiful, lifeless face. Today I will let go of the grief I have carried with me for the child I lost in my womb. Today, I will go to the “Biblical Gardens” and I will find healing. This is my mission; my resolution or rather, more appropriately, my evolution.
I do not believe in the dogma of religion but I am very spiritually sensitive and aware. I am far more mystic than I am Christian and am more inclined to put my faith in Buddha vs. Christ. But the idea and temptation of entering Eden? How can I resist?
As I turned off of the highway, it was as though I was instantly transported. The main lane is arched with trees and shade; laced with brightly colored flowers along the way. I reached the main entrance and was taken back by the awe and beauty of the gardens.
The garden was filled with biblical artifacts, grand statues, erected against the backdrop of the forest. There was a creek that ran through the center and there were many alters resurrected and quiet, meditation areas. This garden has been loved and cared for with pride. It was one of the most beautiful and spiritually enriched places I have ever visited. I could feel the souls of those who have visited and could almost hear their prayers within the songs of the birds fluttering amidst the trees.
Across a babbling brook, there is a wooden bridge. In the center of the bridge is an alter and a guest book. Feeling like a voyeur, I began to read what others have written. So many people have entered this sanctuary looking for solitude, peace, forgiveness, meditation, and relief. There were beautiful poems written. Love letters. There were paragraphs pleading to the Universe for a better life or a different one. There were prayers for loved ones and children. Remembering why I came to this place, I chose to contribute to this beautiful book:
I wrote a letter to my Mother:
“06/04/2015: Momma, today I visited this beautiful place. I wish I could put a tombstone or lay your ashes here. I am in Eden. I miss you every single day. You were there when I took my first breath. I was there when you took your last. I love you. I am trying to follow my dreams. You are my inspiration!”
And then I began to cry. I choked on my sobs and let the tears come. I let them wash me clean like rain. I dropped to the ground and felt my body shutter with the grief I have been trying so hard to suppress. I grabbed my knees and rocked myself and began singing the song I sang to my mom as she passed that dreadful day in the hospital:
“Can you see the little ponies
Dance before your eyes
All the pretty little ponies
Will be there when you arise”
~ All The Pretty Little Ponies
When I finally rose, I was completely cried out. It was a healing experience and exactly what I needed to move forward. In this magical place, I found comfort. We all grieve differently and for different periods of time. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. There is no set amount of time you should grieve for.
As a crow cawed overhead, I knew Momma had heard me. I felt her walk with me as I left the sanctuary and I felt the love of all my ancestors behind me.