When I realize that a mask was being worn by a familiar face, I was confused, hurt and dazed.
I called the “Masked One” a friend.
I gaze now, trying to figure out who has been looking at me this whole time.
Is it…. Was it …. a friend OR foe?
The Spirit, that whispers, was able to tell me in time, “Look behind Its back.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but Spirit kept repeating, “Look behind its back.”
Tears fell, when I saw a brief glimpse of something shiny in Its hand.
Why, I dont understand, what have done?
Spirit whispers, “What is behind Its back was not meant to attack you. The weapon is to self inflict. The “Masked One” is not whole. I’m waiting for IT to hand it over to me. The Masked-One does not realize that as long as something is in Its hand, IT wont be able to reach for Me.”
I say a quiet prayer, “Spirit, free It from its self imposed prison. Set IT free.”
Spirit replies, “I cant until It cries out for Me.”
Poetry written by: Marcia Davis 5/20/2020
Video: Third Day