… and, as she walked towards the Citadel of Damascus, she knew this one time she was walking through stillness.
A silent and gentle walk of waiting.
She knew she had played her part.
Answered a pool of the pile of expectations, parting with its infinity.
Planted the seeds of the Rose, the Damascene Rose.
Dissolved all the threads of story, to generate a Brand New Story Line.
Now it was time, for me, to stand tall, as always, and connect to Her.
It was time for Her to Open the Gates for Al Nur — the Light upon Light and Light from Light.
For there was nothing more to say or write about.
Now had It All.
Now inhabited the moment, 100%, and in full.
Soon … any moment now, Ink was to spring out as a New Story.
The Divine Pen was ready and steady.
‘I have never, ever gotten to choose’, she thought to herself.
Who knows … what’s around the corner, beyond the clouds, to step out of the Palace of Time?
For,
“Who can say where the road goes?
Where the day flows?
Only time.”
For certain, the story thread flew loose in the Heart of the Festival Square.
A kite to bloom and flourish in due time.
Hence, she raised the Rays of Faith and placed them on the Cupola of the Romanian Atheneum, ready and steady.
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“Believe and you will find your way.
A promise lives within you now.” — Enya”
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