WHEN ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD, MY DEAR
THIS IS MORE THAN CIRCUMSTANCE
WHEN ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD, MY DEAR
GRASP IT NOW, YOUR SECOND CHANCE
WHEN ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD, MY DEAR
LISTEN . . . FOR THE RESONANCE
WHEN ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD, MY DEAR
DON'T YOU KNOW. . . ?
~ THEY DANCE ~
in·vo·ca·tion [ ìnv káysh'n ] (plural in·vo·ca·tions) noun 1. calling upon higher power: calling upon a greater power such as God or a spirit for help.
When Gallagher entered the rooms below he was surprised to see that all the lights had been snuffed into silence. The only light available was the dim glow from the logs in the fireplace and several candles that had been placed strategically around the room. Tess sat on the window seat, staring intently toward the moon through the rain that pattered against the pane.
"I've brought your evening brandy, madame," Gallagher said.
"Thank-you, Gallagher. That's lovely. Just put it on the table for me, won't you?"
Gallagher hesitantly set the brandy down. "Are you alright, madame?"
"Oh yes. Absolutely," Tess said. "I'm just preoccupied. The moon is near full." She rose from her seat, crossed the room, and took the snifter in her hand. Nosing it, she commented, "I think it's time, Gallagher."
"Time for what, madame?"
"A ceremony," she replied. "I need to claim this space as my own."
Gallagher folded his hands together over the tray and dropped them to his lap. "Very well then. May I be of any service?"
"Service?" Tess replied. "You are such a sweetheart. No. No service." she said. "I just need some time, that's all. It might get a bit loud, but don't worry. All I need you to do is leave me be. Do you understand, Gallagher?"
"Not entirely, madame" he said with a slight scowl.
"Oh come now, Gallagher. Surely, you're not worried about me? It's just something I need to do. There might be a bit of noise, perhaps a bit of a breeze. Don't let it frighten you. I bring no harm. You can stay if you want, but you must close your eyes. No peeking! And when it's all over and done with, I'll just need to sleep a bit later than usual, that's all. Whatever you do, don't worry. I'll see you in the morning. Okay?"
"Very well then, madame. I'll not wake you. Pleasant dreams. Sleep well."
Tess waited until Gallagher had ascended the ladder and the bedspread had dropped down into a curtain of silence. She lit a stick of incense and slowly walked a wide circle around the open space, three times. When she was finished, she threw the remainder of the incense into the fire and stood in the middle of the floor; eyes closed as if in a trance; arms relaxed at her side; palms turned upward as she waited. The wind pushed at the garden door until it burst open, prodding some leaves against the threshold into awakening. They rose and whirred into the room along with a spray of showers, stirring against Tess' hair and the gown she was wearing. She took a deep breath in, and then out again. It had begun . . .
FLOWERS BECOME SCREENS
Rain is trickling down
Trickling down
Soaks my skin
Soaks my skin
Rain is Pain
Trickling down
Pain is trickling down
Pain is Rain
Trickling down
Trickling down
Soaks my skin
Soaks my skin
Trickling down
Trickling down
Trickling down
Rain
Rain
Rain
Soaks my skin
Through to the bone
Pain is nothing that a
Downpour won't erase
~ Rain ~
You can't hold on to it
A treasure you cannot frame
~ Rain ~
Somehow I'm drawn to it
I feel engaged, one and the same
When heaven's dressing
Beads off my face
Then pain is nothing that a
Downpour won't erase
