Written Are The Words

I thanked Marcel for the almonds and was underway before sundown. I was on the edge of an extraordinary happiness. Walking the earth in my soft silken slippers, feeling the rich contour beneath my feet – truly connected to this mortal world. I sauntered up to Shannon’s doorstep as the deep heat of the night closed in. It churned the butter within my soul and knew that it was good. I thought to myself, 'Would I find the strength?' I knew that I had the power within, but would the good words magically fly from my month like sweet honey? Or would I stumble like a the fidgety Muppet of olden time? Would she consume me and be reborn? Oh she must consume! And like the great feast that is devoured by the masses, she would soon feast upon me and feel pure.