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The Book (Open was my Heart)

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My heart was open. Open as the sky was my heart. My eyes were closed. Closed were my eyes on that dark stormy night. Open was my mouth, whispering words through my dry cracked lips. Closed was my hand. Clenching a wooden cross on a necklace with wooden beads. Up was my other hand. Up to the heavens on that stormy night. Down were my knees. Kneeling on the ground. Up was my dress, floating in the breeze. Howling was the wind, open was my heart, a cross in one hand, my head facing the heavens. My long nails were scraggly, my toenails digging into the earth at my feet. Open was the book at my feet. Open, with pages flipping faster and faster. The rain fell in soft sheets against the pages, leaving small wet dots, then spreading. Until the whole book was soaking. The night was dark, stormy, cloudy but in my mind it was a clear, sunny day. My body and mind were unaware of their surroundings. I never glanced at the book. I knew it by heart. I repeated the words, again and again. "and darkness was on the face of the deep…. Let there be light; and there was light… And it was so" But the darkness didn't leave until morning shown it's golden-pink light…





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