Sunday, August 07, 2005

The Cathedral



This place is known as the Cathedral and I came in by foot.

I came here in search of Spirits and Ghosts.

I want to know them and learn how to tell their stories and I've been told unless I do this correctly I could find myself in a world of trouble.

Actually the word used was " cursed "

It's a journey my Grandparents would have approved of so I took it and this is what I found.

I started my journey on horseback, it had been given to me back at Camp and I was told it was a Blood Mare. " Like the drink? You know...Bloody Mary? " I asked the Stable Woman.

The Stable Woman shook her head, " You must be Anita, " she mumbled and she helped me up and I settled into the saddle. " The one who thought she was going to ride a motorcycle into the Cathedral. "

I just laughed and at full speed raced away from the stables into the Night.

I wondered later how she knew where I was going, I hadn't told anyone.




When that bad tempered animal and I got to the road leading into the Forest it refused to step off the Path. I tried bribing it and I tried pulling and pushing and all it did was show me it's teeth and it rolled it's eyes up until all I could see were the whites and strange as it may sound...I think it growled at me.

So I went in alone and when I turned back in the hope the animal would follow me I saw it was gone and in it's place I saw a woman in black. Her clothing was black, her hair was black and black gloves covered her hands. Her face was so dark it almost looked blue and she wasn't looking at me.

She was looking past me.

Into the woods.

It took me three days to reach the Cathedral and in those three days I saw animals with too many heads, I heard voices coming from the trees and horrible maniacal laughter coming from the rivers and streams and ponds.



I saw things caught up in the tree branches and in the bushes and lying on the path in front of me.

I saw nooses hanging from trees sometimes knives and guns were up there to. I saw clothing and shoes and strands of hair, I saw children’s toys and books other things that touch us as we move through our lives.

Then I saw graves.

I saw old graves marked by weather worn tombstones, I saw freshly dug ones waiting to be filled. I saw funeral pyres and tools from a trade I practiced when I was a Mortician littering the ground too.

At the end of the trail I came to the Cathedral and something came at me from my left and seemed to wrap itself around me, like a snake.

I couldn't move and I could hardly breathe and I found it wasn't important I do either one here in the Cathedral.

" How do you like it here? " a voice asked me and I knew it wasn't sane.

" I don't "

" Very smart of you, very wise...the living should never feel at home in the house of the Dead."

The thing turned loose of me and then I could feel it standing next to me.

" I came here to learn to tell stories " I said, " Will I be welcomed here? "

It was quiet and I could hear the sounds of the world...the wind, airplanes, running water and birds and in the distance a train’s whistle. " We've been teaching you since you left the camp...haven’t you been listening?”

“That's all you have to learn to do, that's all the permission you’ll ever need. "

I could hear it moving away from me and I began to move in the opposite direction and when I got back to camp I began to write more then I ever have in my entire life.

And of course now I Listen...there is so much, after all, to hear.

5 Comments:

At 3:38 PM, Blogger Karen said...

You have such a flair for the spooky, Anita Marie!

 
At 3:52 PM, Blogger Anita Marie Moscoso said...

Why thank you Karen...I try my best
:)
Anita Marie

 
At 4:33 AM, Blogger Heather Blakey said...

Wonderfully evocative Anita Marie and the images are simply spectacular. Wow!

 
At 7:13 AM, Blogger Anita Marie Moscoso said...

The images are from the Hoh National Park right here in Washington state...only the most beautiful place in this part of the world!

I mean, how can you NOT be inspired by places like this?

Anita Marie

 
At 9:22 PM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

I love the way the moss hangs down into the water - it's like the hair of a banshee. How well your words support the images, Anita Marie.

 

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