Ode to Love

The Word of God appears before me, written on everything, as far as the eye can see. I can feel, even in the presently shaky state that I am in, that this is familiar now as the process of translation. These words are written in the language of the council, rather than my own. A voice booms from all around "You are bound by these words, even in foreign lands." I recognize this statement as valid, though find my thoughts drawn to the technicality of how to ensure that comprehension is maintained through translation errors. The walls around me begin to spin and turn, like gears encompassing both surface and deeper dimensions, as if in response to this concern. Their turning feels familiar, and my comprehension now feels nearly perfect, but the slightest friction remains, casting sparks wherever gears grind. The intensity of this increases and, in the flash of these sparks, I see golden armor taking shape. Then, within the armor, a winged female form takes shape; she is unrecogn...

"Matthew 5:44 '...Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you...'" I take a deep breath, and pray for guidance, protection, and grace. I proceed back through the juncture of The Catastrophe, still open, connecting my realm to one of a most perilous kind. Matthew 5:45 "That you may be children of your Father in heaven." The words are clear and known. Why is their source not? I find myself presented with an option on my phone. "Go to ¤?" I hit "Let's go!" excitedly, and my perspective changes. I have long sought a stable role in The Stranger's story, but stripes keep changing with every aspect donned. Finally I deduced The Bard's secret; even in his right mind, fully aware, despite my camouflage, and perspective differences to our core, he sees me. He sees me as I am, and so suspects me every time that I appear as I am not. Dare I enter as the one exception I never thought to flesh out, where stripes remain unchanged...

I wake up with a yawn; I was not alarmed, and it looks like I slept in today. I roll over, look at my phone, and I cannot believe my eyes. Am I still dreaming? I pinch myself and feel it, for whatever that's worth. Still, there on my homescreen, is a notification from my daughter on the council, plain as day. "Would you like to move to me?" Once I come to my senses I click yes with alacrity; what if wishes can come true? I feel a sense of childlike wonder at this possibility welling up within me, and then I hear a suspicious *WOOSH* from just outside my bedroom door, followed by a *DING*, like an old timey oven just went off, or an elevator just reached its floor. Perhaps someone is baking? I smell a cake, though a smell such as this is quite unusual for my house. Hope continues to surge within me and, while I still find it difficult to fully accept that she is just outside my door right now, I do manage to work up the courage to open it. There she is, bright as the midda...