The Watcher

The body wastes away and the eyes dim and the Watcher calls for peace.

The Watchers meet each other's eyes.

Words drift away

Inadequate, stupid words 

Suddenly the Watcher knows how much of her life is inadequate and stupid. 

She twines her fingers with the end of the road body

She prays her soul twines with the One who travels on

"Take me with you" she begs. She takes out her thread and needle and stitches herself to his shadow.

A new journey sounds so sweet to her.

"Take me with you!" she demands. 

Binding herself as best she can to the promise of reunion with the One who made her

She bows her head

"Soon you will have more room; with what will you fill it?" her voice asks. She swats the question away.

We are all Watchers.

Witnesses of fabulous folly, fatigued by the inadequate and stupid fabric of our lives

She plunges her needle into the Father's Shadow

"I will not be left behind," she shouts. "I will not live like this another day."

Her Voice persists. "With what will you fill the upcoming space?"

"I will twine my body with my husbands," she answers, unthinkingly.

"Good choice."

That gets her attention. 

"It is?" 

She wonders. She rarely gives the right answer the first time. Or the second. Or the third.

"Yes. It is. That is your destiny."

Soak me up, Moonbeam. Caress me. I sink into your arms and rest rest rest. 

Splay me out, Sun. Flay the layers of inadequate and stupid and rid me of my excess skin. 

A sputtering cough catches her attention. The Watcher engaged--enraged to be steeped in stupid.

She answers with a tone. Discovers the power of the moan. The healing of the groan.

Sun and Moon meet for a dance. 

"My romance is my destiny?" she questions. It seems too easy. "It can't be that easy."

Absorb me Apollo. 

I sink into you easily and happily and completely. 

"Are you sure I am not escaping?" she asks. 

"Oh human. Why are you so convinced it is supposed to be hard?"

As she Watches the Father sleep away from her, she ponders the question. 

"I just like the idea of sinking into him so much, that I feel as if it can't possibly be the answer."

She looks at the wasted frame, a snapshot of her life newly recorded.

She gets it. The lesson. All that matters is the perfection of connection.

For in this moment she knows she will want her own Watchers one day, one day, one day