III. THE DESTINATION

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BEHOLD, THERE SHE STANDS

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BEHOLD, THERE SHE STANDS. NO LONGER A GIRL, BUT A WOMAN. SHE STANDS TALL WITH IRONCLAD IRISES AND WRISTS OF STEEL. HER ANKLES ARE BRUISED AND HAVE WALKED A LONG WAY, BUT HER HANDS ARE OPEN AND FULL OF FLOWERING LOTUSES.

"LOOK!" SHE CALLS, TO AN OPEN PLAIN, WHERE THE WILD GRASS RIPPLES IN ANSWER. HER HAIR FLIES OUT BEHIND HER LIKE A SHIMMERING CURTAIN.

"I BRING YOU NEWS OF VICTORY. THE JOURNEY HAS BROUGHT ME HERE, TO AN OPEN PLAIN. IT IS EMPTY OF THE PALACES I ENVISIONED, AND THE GARDENS I DREAMT OF. IT IS A WILDERNESS.

"AND YET, SO AM I. GONE IS THE HEART THAT BLED AND BROKE WITHIN ME— NOW IT BEATS FIERCELY TILL THE END OF TIME. LOOK, MY ARMS ARE NO LONGER SMOOTH AND SOFT, BUT STRONG AND SUNBURNT FROM SINGING THE SONGS OF THE SUN AND WAKING UP PARCHED. I HAVE GONE HUNGRY. I HAVE WALKED BAREFOOT. I HAVE FALLEN AND BROKEN AND TURNED MY BITTER BACK ON THE ROAD.

"BUT THE CALL STILL BECKONED ME. AND SO I FOLLOWED, AND HERE I AM: A PLACE WITHOUT PALACES. A PLACE WITHOUT TREES BEARING HEAVY FRUIT, OR EVEN A RIVER TO TEND TO MY BRUISED SKIN."

SHE OUTSTRETCHES HER ARMS. THE WIND BILLOWS UP BEHIND HER. "DON'T YOU SEE, NOW? I AM THE PLACE WITH WINGS! LOOK NO FURTHER FOR A HOME. COME TO ME. I TELL YOU, COME TO ME."

SHE SMILES, AND THE SUN SHINES DOWN UPON HER. IT IS A SMILE THAT FORGIVES, A SMILE THAT CURVES LIKE THE MOON DOES WHEN THE BREEZE BRUSHES PAST IT IN THE SUMMERTIME. IT IS A KIND AND SWEET SMILE, LIKE A TANGERINE RIPENED IN SPRING. AND THOUGH SHE SPEAKS SOFTLY NOW, EVEN THE BIRDS IN THE EAST RAISE THEIR HEADS TO WONDER AT HER GENTLE CALL.

"I AM THE PLACE WITH WINGS." SHE MURMURS, AND SETTLES CALMLY IN THE SWAYING GRASS. "BRING ME YOUR HEAVY BURDENS. SHOW ME YOUR WOUNDS. I WILL BEAR IT UNTIL IT IS NO MORE. I HAVE HELD HEAVIER BURDENS THAN ATLAS.

"COME TO ME, DREAMERS, AND ALL WHO ARE WEARY.

"COME TO ME."

"

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