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“The Remaining”

PROLOGUE:  “Terra Firma and The Bitumen”


"The slow descent into Hell
Had led Her mind to escape to Heaven
Her firmament was Her Mind
Her body just a Shell"


Heaven for Her existed in The Dream
She called Her dream, “The Remaining”
She called Her hell, “The Bitumen Road”.
It was a burning, eternally long blistering hot road,
Fumes of steaming asphalt, bare feet bleeding 
Walking on broken glass and discarded crucifixion nails,
A barren place, here was the Darkness of Souls Lost
The World of Hieronymus Bosch
Hideous, unchaste, unclean battered bodies burned and tossed.
A cauldron of a place where Monsters and Men
And Men that were Monsters
Tore each other to bits, until, “The Remaining” in them
No longer had the will to exist.
They were the Men that were Monsters
And the Monsters that were Men, among their lot, not forgotten,
The Evil Women, never hidden, slowly turning, eyes of black coals burning
Slowly eaten up by the Terrible One 
Bit-by-Bit
Eternally ravaged, forever drowning and damaged
In the Deep Dark Pit.

“The Remaining”, the Heaven of Her Escape,
Was the place where all Her Pure Love existed.
There She walked unafraid in the Bright White Light
She walked and She danced, with majestic wings She took flight,
Singing songs of Love and of Joy with the Angels,
Those people who dreamed Her into their dreams 
Once-Upon-a-Time-Long-Ago
The Ones whose Love shined unconditional,
these were the Angels 
Who reached out to Her, 
gave Her shelter, gave Her freedom to dream
To just “BE”
To turn Her Life into Love 
And Love into Life 
There She made Her escape 
To the Place Full of Light
To There,that place,
where there were no Monsters of Men, no dark Hellish Night
To the Place of Heart fused burning bright to the Seat of Amygdala
God’s Chair, 
she sat 
at His feet in
THE LIGHT.

There She travelled to make her escape.
There She existed having faith, 
she walked right through The Gate.
There She would remain with “The Remaining”,
Writing Her stories in the Akashic Hall of Records
Not of Fame nor of Glory, 
always a clean open white page 
made for colour, A Library of stories, if ever there be.
She wrote and She wrote Her stories like dreams,
To be placed in the "Book of Life" eventually -
For “The Remaining” she sorely missed
Her daughter, 
She re-named Terra Firma.
 
From her place in the Veil
She saw the girl sitting lonely, singing sad little songs
In the Spring Rains of her young life so vain.
She sent breezes to Terra Firma, caressed her sweet cheeks lovingly
And she hovered invisible in front of her daughter
She looked into Terra Firma’s Emerald Green Eyes 
studying books vacantly
She saw the tears welling firmly, 
saw them like dams over-spilling
with torrents of water in those eyes swam her dreams -
In Terra Firma's reflection she saw 
Herself
No Disguise.
She was dead to this Earth
No more than a Dream
in Terra Firma's sweet eyes.

To “The Remaining”,in her dreams,
To the Dreams remaining in Terra Firma’s Green mind,
She cast spells, showing Light and Love and 
Hidden Knowledge sublime.
Maps in all the stories the girl read in the dark, 
her face lit up by the glowing screen in her bed,
her eyes dazzling diamonds sparked as she read.
In her mind, her life, in her Lost Wooded Forrest
her mother was dead.
This was quite heartbreaking, this was quite sad, 
distant and far, She decided to send
To Terra Firma dazzling shining gold and silver stars 
where the girl looked for signs -
“More than all the Stars in the Sky” -
Along beaches where Terra Firma collected memories
From Her maps, like buried treasure,
Pearls of wisdom discovered in the loose Sands of Time
Singing Oceans in Seashells, 
Missives on the wings of Dark Bats
And Albatrosses crying messages. 
On Her soft, warm and cool breezes
She caressed Terra Firma
with kisses the girl so sorrowfully lacked.
Sent Her voice to the girl in familiar form
warm purr of Aretha, her black recalcitrant cat.
Her mother’s sweet voice 
Sweet Memory Rhymed
"Never Lose Faith Daughter
You will find me in your Heart 
and I will find you in Mine".

To her She sent warnings 
in thunder and lighting, the storms She did bring.
She recounted fierce warning signs
through the voices of Toads deep dark croaks they did sing,
“The Bit-u-Men are coming!” “The Bit-u-Men are coming!”
“The Tide is Turning, sweet child –“ 
Cold hail on foul winds that were bodily stinging
Loud croaking the King Toad, 
haled his army of Green ever rattling cages and singing -
“The Bit-u-Men are coming! The Bit-u-Men are coming!”
“Be wary child,they are marching eating 
the Light Walkers walking, 
who lose faith,lose their shining,lose all that is pure
from not knowing dark Beelzebub is real not demure!
The Bit-u-Men are coming! Down, down, down
 The Bitumen Road”
This message for you.

From the wind whistling around Terra Firma’s sweet face
She felt an invisible and very warm reassuring embrace.
Heard the wind whisper in her pink shell of an ear,
“Look for The Remaining,where you will find 
the Golden White Light that is burning and so close,
it is never far,it is always near -
There in your heart in your mind
There I will be - always at The Door
For All Time,always believe, never fear.
My open arms safe 
waiting and watching for Thee -
In your Heaven I am Morning
In the Golden Place of Blue Sky
Safe you will be,never blaming,blamed,nor ever denied.
There I will wait for you 
I will watch and wait for you with 
“The Remaining”,
In Heaven where I am your Morning
In the Golden Place of LIGHT
And 
Blue Sky
Never raining
Forever reigning 
with Angels and 
HE, 
The One True King who sits on High".

(Lovejoy-Burton/March 2018)





1. Angus Stone - "Monsters", Lyrics.

2. Hieronymus Bosch - "Garden of Earthly Delights".

3. Hieronymus Bosch - "Scenes in Hell".

4. "Painter of Our Greatest Fears" - Article, The Economist, 2016
https://www.economist.com/news/books-and-arts/21693549-major-new-exhibition-shows-hieronymus-bosch-be-startlingly-modern-painter-our
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