The Ladder (1)

11 Août

The_ladder

This story begins in a ladder. A ray of sunlight illuminates the space of a shed, in Quebec, circa the mid-twentieth century. The little girl in the ladder has not yet three years. She is embedded in time and journeys into eternity, timeless scribe of the hieroglyph side of what we call reality. She trembles, a tremor shaking her whole being. She sees into the indigo depths of Time. In her Sunday dress and her cute white ankle boots, the little one is trembling. There, at the top of the ladder, a voice, a voice is calling.

 

It is the voice of reality. A voice that will seal her fate. It was written that there would be this chromatic scale and the tremor of meaning that would make her a clairaudient like her mother, her grandmother and her great-grandmother before her. It was written in the House of Dreams of the First Nations of this territory that she would enter one day into the House of Mica of peace.

 

She would write a book about it one day. A sphinx-book like this lion of fire lurking in the desert, protecting the underground cities of vanished humanities. She would tell stories as she had promised herself when she had to go to the Ahuntsic library to give back these little girls of the rainbow that went straight to the heart. Ha! To be able to follow them in the secret passages of a castle as there was only in books when you were born in St. Augustine, County of Two Mountains! For a long time, she would hear the echo of their steps into the depths of the Earth and into the moraines of her books as a child as well in the labyrinths of her classes of ancient civilizations.

 

Yes, she would write stories. On her eleventh birthday, Mom had given her a diary with her birthstone and a delicate golden clasp that could be locked with a tiny key, saying, « Here, you’ll be able to write all your secrets. »

 

She would one day find herself at the other end of the Earth, perched on a platform erected for a poetry reading in the open,  singing the sound of the Self, while the rose sky would unfold over one of the biggest cities in the world.

 

From the upcoming book: ©Rose of Times 2012

 

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