Unveiled

At the mellow edge of dusk where the sky is opaque and blushed, a languid fade of light obliquely dreams. Eyes bruised by loss are made translucent, a sorrow is captured, a memory mirrored. There upon the evening’s march, a Goddess of impermanence and compassion walks away into the hastening penumbra, for a while only, she wears a garment of celestial mortality for visibility. Soon the unfolding drape of night will become a little black dress, one she has woven together upon a cosmic wheel. Briefly the deity turns to embrace those who wait and watch. A few will reach toward Her, while their entranced minds spin and circle over still open graves. Some will die to themselves as her astral dress ascends - most remain to return to that cyclic forgetfulness, that masks a lucid revealing in-between the veils of dusk and dark.