I would not have imaginedthat something so light could be so heavy
that a thing so small could be so tremendous
I bare this white stone.
I run my finger along the backside of the thing.
It is milk-colored
An irregular oval and yet it is a perfect.
A whole bored through the center,
threaded with a leather strap.
I know the way of this place in the way we know things in dreams.
it is a perfect knowing.
I will wear this around my neck forever.
And so I wait to look because I am afraid.
Could what I know really be true?
Is fear now just phantom pain in a shed limb?
I do not trust what I know although I know.
It seems to good to be true.
That is why I am afraid, still afraid.
I know and yet I do not know what is on the front of the thing
I know it is a glyph, a symbol, a sumnation.
Of who and what I am and am made of.
No facades here, a God’s eye-view.
His view. Perfect. and as deep as the deepest that there is.
It will stand for a word in Adam’s language.
My True Name.
I will recognize it.
I am afraid I will recognize it.
That is why I wait.
I feel the sympathetic hush of anticipation.
I slip it over my head.
It is a reassuring wieght upon me.
And I look down.
It is who I always prayed I am.