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THE GRIM REAPER and THE SYMBOL

In Excerpts of Prose, poetry, Uncategorized on November 20, 2009 at 2:19 PM

The Reaper is present, but do not fear.

There is a Tree of Life, but encased within a Coffin. We can only live within the space given to us. Life begins from the roots and ends at the Key to the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Bell will toll when the time comes to depart.

And the Reaper shall come for us all at the end.

THESE ARE SEVEN IMAGES IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Key

Death

Saint

Virgin

Gate

Rope

Coffin

THEY ADDED TWO MORE:

The Tree of Life

The Crown

Seven Tragedians were commissioned by The Crown to each write the story behind the first seven images. Each story was lost in the burning of the monastary, 15th Century AD.

All, except for two, smuggled out by a woman (or so the story goes) and her story is an oral one known only to her descendants.

After the First World War, a scroll was found in the Convent rubble, nearly destroyed. Dating back to the early 15th century, it reads:

I see the Keys, both are needed to unlock the mind from its shackles of what we want to see and allowing us to see what is.

~

The Keys are of light and dark, perfectly balanced. The Coffin is merely the resceptacle for our bodies as they slowly turn to dust. But the Tree of Life keeps our spirit alive in those who live on.

The only scholar who recorded a modern history of the images, never published his findings. Some said he was crazy, others feared his work and in the end, neither survived.

In a letter he sent to his sister on December 21, 1980 all he wrote was, “I know Her. She is Death. Unlike him, she only taketh away.”

He was found December 22, a rope around his neck, hanging from the bridge over the little river outside his hometown. In his pocket, on a napkin, this was written:

I stand at the cliff.

My toes are wet.

The stone is cold.

It always gets back to Her.

It always gets back to Her.

Only in the last minute.

Do you see them?

Only when I stand on my toes do I see those cold, cold eyes.

At his funeral, the Priest said to the small gathering,

“It is only in the mystery of death that the promise and peril of life is revealed. One’s rewards and one’s penalties are to be found in death. Death is afterlife. Eternal.”

THIS IS A SHORT SEQUENCE WRITTEN BY:
FM
KHC
SL
TYN
See the previous blog post for a hint to the creation of this poem.

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