The Prophecy

The Prophecy (a poem)

Mother earth sought out her children’s hearts and found only darkness.

The planet had been ravaged by wars--war after war after war.

 

Waves crashed along the cliff walls, almost reaching the woman;

Her tears streamed down her face and into the churning waters below her.

A pale blue ribbon fluttered in the wind as the woman released it from her shaking hands.

The ribbon flew higher and higher never touching the ground;

The woman wondered if it--and her prayers--would reach the celestial heavens.

For a few hopeful moments, she stood there watching the ribbon fly away

Until the town’s warning bells signaled an impending invasion.

As quick as her feet would carry her,

The woman ambled down the rocky path towards the safety of the city walls.

Her heart beat in time with her rapid footfalls,

For she could see the towering gates beginning to close.

Just a little farther, she thought.

In the distance, she could hear catcalls and whoops of drunken laughter,

Along with the mechanical whirs of several all-terrain vehicles.

Panic rose up in her breast,

As inch by inch the gates closed, along with her the only hope of escaping the marauders.

A jagged rock caught her foot,

And down she fell as the doors shut with a resounding boom

That filled her heart with dread.

Her eyes closed in anxious apprehension,

Hearing the vehicles come to a halt in a semi-circle around her.

Still on the ground, she cautiously looked up at the city walls;

People gathered at the top of the wall to see her heart wrenching predicament.

She had always been beautiful,

And her mother had said that it would someday be her downfall.

The unwashed, vile raiders jumped down from their vehicle,

Like an eagle swoops down for the kill.

The woman tried to erase the heinous memories from her mind,

Alas, she could not.

The men had used her, abused her many times before the people of her town.

No one did anything;

They just watched--silent and cold-hearted.

After they had gorged themselves on her young, supple body,

They left her there broken and bleeding, filled to capacity with their seminal fluid.

Unable to cry to release her rage,

She pulled herself together--enough, anyway--to make her way to the cliff.

How could she live with those memories of abominable men rutting her in animalistic throes?

Her feet--unsteady, as they may be--carried her to the cliff’s edge.

Her eyes turned once again to the city and it walls,

But the gawkers were gone…

They went on with their lives as if her defilement had been an interesting sideshow attraction.

Edging her way closer to the brink,

Her eyes strayed to the violent crush below her.

She lifted one of her feet covered in her own blood and suspended it in midair.

Taking one’s own life was not an easy task.

Just as she was about to take the final plunge,

The blue ribbon descended from the ethereal, unknown otherworld,

Caressing her cheek as her mother had when she was a child.

Stunned by the reappearance of the blue ribbon,

The woman stumbled back and grabbed it from the air.

She looked at the ribbon carefully,

Noticing that there was an ancient script written on one of the ribbon’s sides.

The mother goddess rarely gifted her children,

And when she did,

It was for a purpose.

No longer did she want to take her life,

Nor did she want to go back to the town that had betrayed her.

Gathering her blonde hair in one hand,

She tied the ribbon around her hair.

Never looking back, she walked along the cliff until she came to a big city.

There she would make her new life,

And thank the goddess daily for her gift.

#

Several months later,

She felt the beginnings of life stir in her womb.

Most women would be disgusted at bearing their rapist’s child,

Yet she loved this child that had saved her life.

One day in the market of Empyrean,

She decided to make her daily pilgrimage to the Goddess’ temple.

Today was different than other days.

There was a new high priestess, who was an old crone filled with wisdom of the Goddess.

 She listened to the old woman speak with an ardent fervor to the gathered people,

Pleading with them to follow the ways of the goddess.

Too long had the Mother Goddess been ignored;

Thus, causing all the wars, plagues, and famine worldwide.

Too many had forgotten the love of their Mother,

When the old high priestess said this,

She looked directly at the obviously pregnant woman.

Once the priestess was done with her teaching,

She sought out the aptly listening pregnant pupil.

“I know what you have been seeking child,”

The old woman’s words poured over her like a cleansing wave.

The priestess held out her hand,

And the woman untied her hair,

Handing her the still brilliant blue ribbon that she wore every day.

The old woman’s eyes squinted at script,

Reading aloud a single word:

Blessed.

Then the old woman’s voice became younger and more powerful in timbre,

She was being touched by the Goddess to convey an important message:

“Change the world

My different girl

I speak, you listen

For Mother Earth shall christen

You special, my child

Though a small bit wild

Open your eyes

To those who cry

Tears of sorrow and pain

Not a little bit vain,

It is now up to you

My child of blue

To take what is yours

And make a new day flourish.”

 

Joyful tears sprung to the pregnant woman’s eyes,

And she prostrated herself before the goddess statue,

Devoting her life and her unborn child to the loving Mother.

#

Days and weeks past,

She enjoyed the feeling of her child’s kicks moving inside her.

This child had brought her hope and a new outlook on life.

This child truly was blessed.

There were times that she thought she could hear her child’s thoughts,

But, of course, that was silly nonsense,

Right?

Full with child,

The birthing day came with sudden quickness.

She had been at the temple,

Worshipping the Great Mother,

When a gush of water streamed from her.

All of the priestesses rushed to her side,

And began praying to the goddess for a safe delivery.

The woman held the high priestess’ wrinkled hand as the contractions became more intense

And painful.

“You’re crowning,”

Announced the midwife, who began to ready herself for the arrival of this blessed child.

Grunting every time she came to push,

The woman faltered, out of breath.

She had always been a small framed woman,

And now, she would not be able to deliver her child.

Silently praying to her Goddess,

The woman gave one final push,

Which ushered her baby into the world.

“A daughter of blue,”

Whispered the priestesses in awe, all of whom began to prostrate themselves to the miracle before them.

“The mother is fading fast,”

Said the midwife through gritted teeth as she worked diligently to save the mother.

The mother knew she was not going to live,

So she opened her arms to receive her daughter.

“You will be special, my little one.

Even though, I may not be there,

Remember the Great Mother is watching over you,

And I hope that you will always know of my love for you.”

Then she gave up her spirit to join the Great Mother in fields of flowers.

The high priestess took action,

And brought the child to a couple, who had recently lost their child.

“Guard her with your lives,

She is special to the Great Mother and this world.

Promise me.”

The couple promised the high priestess, who handed them the small, wailing bundle.

They were so blissfully happy that they did not notice the high priestess fade into the shadows.

The mother said,

“The Great Mother has blessed us with a daughter…

A daughter of blue.”

Author's Note

All right, everyone, this is my feeble attempt at a prophecy. Please be gentle, because I obviously am not a poet...I am a storyteller. I do appreciate constructive criticism on how to make it better. FOR THE BOLD BLUE LETTERING, THAT POEM WAS WRITTEN BY MEGAN S. I appreciate her help on this epic undertaking, and I just had to add her well written poem to this. I hope you all enjoy!

Reviews

[Veronica Chandler]

I have enjoyed your storytelling prowess; and the imagry you painted here. The mother goddess refrences illuminate hope for this world of your creation in the read. For me reading the poem as part of the story gave a certain flavor again this taste of hope, in the form of a child. I do believe that the children, especially the different ones are going to change the real world for the better. Your story telling does captivate my attention and interest me. The prophetic nature of the story seemed to make the it for me. It seems like maybe a short story as opposed to a novel, but there may be something more there for the stories future change in this world brought by the blessed birth and adoption of the "Daughter of blue." That she would grow into the ultimate expression of beauty of this world. Well done!

[D. Gabrielle Jensen]

First, the positive. You have a good thing going here. Great imagery and intriguing story. However, when I think "prophecy" I imagine ABAB rhyme schemes and a very structured meter - instead, this reads like prose with awkward line breaks. It may be in the best interest of the piece to leave it in paragraph form and leave only the poem (in blue) in the metered form. For me, changing the layout won't change anything about the way I read it, as that was how I read it anyway. But in all, I really did like what you have set up. I think this is a much stronger chapter than your Prelude and am interested in seeing how it all builds.

[compositionc]

That was epic. It's very prophecy like.

[George Korolog]

I'm assuming that this "chapter" is a chapter in a book that you are writing and that this particular chapter is a prophecy in poetic form? When if first started reading, I thought it was a poem, but as I moved along, I understood it as a story. So, before I comment, as I do have some thoughts, can you tell me the context of this piece. Am I right in my earlier comments, or is this something different?

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

A wonderful story and reading your note here made me realize you and I are the opposite. I want to write stories and I produce poems. The problem for me is trying to tell the difference. This helped to open my eyes. Splendid Vanessa

[LA Lorena]

For a non-poet, as you call yourself, I think you did a great job. You conveyed your story along well, and what a story it is! Very creative, and I think you did a splendid job of it.

[Matthew vonHone]

Nice job.

[FantasyWriter01]

Excellent detail and a powerful structure. Good job. You really though this one through.

[Coyote Poetry]

No weakness in this chapter. Just a fantastic journey in powerful story. I like how she learn to desire life with the baby and the lesson learn at the temple. I like how you set-up the chapter. The prayers making the story stronger and better. A outstanding chapter.
Coyote

[MR_BERG]

Very good. Something positive and beautiful from horror.