“Will they be waiting for us?
It doesn’t look so far, just a few steps, not a big deal,
not as if we had to go on a boat, as some have to.
And there is no island, just a circle of stones…”
Indeed, there are several gates to enter Paradise.
No, we haven’t forgotten: through this gate we walked, you and I, when the wall was new, the grass so green, and the sky so clear. We believed, the future was a wide alley, bordered with roses, your hand in mine, our eyes to the horizon.
Then came the clouds, and the blizzard, metal locusts. I held the shield high, and you were safe. That haven would not be taken. But outside, down in the valley, beyond the wall, the hordes of demons attacked, days after days. We could no longer breath, they scorched the earth, killed everything. The companions and I retreated, and stood by the gate.
There we died, one by one, till the sea of Evil receded. The last one who stood tall, alive, you know. He’s your Lord now, a Saint, in shining armour.
I, haunt these woods, remembering the day, when we crossed the gate.
I know, you’re hesitating. For good reasons. It looks familiar, the small neat garden, the lavender, the path that leads to the ancient door… Yet, there is something different, or has something changed? You look at the old stones, at the bench, yes the bench, where you used to sit, next to him, waiting for nightfall. Someone still looks after the garden, and it’s not him.
If he were still there, he would be in front of you, welcoming you, welcoming you back. Or would he? After all, much time has passed, much has happened. You haven’t counted the years, of course not. You just know something has changed.
But, perhaps, it’s you? If he were there, at the gate, would you still see him? Would you acknowledge him? Now, look: you’re staying in the shadow, why? You know this place, you were once happy here, weren’t you?
Ha, I see… yes, I understand why you hesitate. You know why he’s not here. You know full well. And now, I am afraid. I am beginning to understand who you really are. Are you inviting me to sit, on the bench, waiting for nightfall? Are you moving me back, to where you were, to where he was… to where I am now?
Down South is your secret garden, and I hold the key,
Thus, I live in fear, of the jealous gods, of the cruel demons,
For they cannot approach the magic gate:
You can imagine their fury, they cannot suffer
To see this simple mortal, enjoy the
Forbidden fruits, all the way,
Image via mennyfox55
I know you are looking, searching, questioning. I also know that I must go with you, to the old town, to the place where we found each other, so long ago. It is the place where I died, the place you left behind, for a world that no longer would know me. Perhaps you still have doubts, perhaps you are a little afraid of letting me back in your life. But there is nothing to fear: the one you love protects you, and to tell the truth she is also the threshold to me, if you want to find me, it is easy: she holds the key.
You have understood that the place is special. It was then, because of us, because of our love, it is now, but it was also before you and I were born: it is one of the gates of our world, one of the gates to that other world you are beginning to see. And, yes, I know, this is why you are questioning: you know that it started there.
So, I have now decided, I will go with you, but you must accept that your love must go too, the three of us, for I cannot be with you and not with her, for we are a trinity. You remember the old church. At that time, when we were so young, they were working in the ruins of the cloister. Then we could not see them. Now the cloister is as it was, and there we will find an old medieval statue. They date that statue to the ninth century, but you should know that it is more ancient than that, it predates the Roman invasion. The cloister, and the statue are why Gabrielle visited the town all those years ago.