ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
46 year old wife and mother who is trying to put her past behind her. [July 2006]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (13) Alien Within (Poetry) What comes with self examination. [15 words] Angel Of Death (Non-Fiction) A corrupted childhood contaminates the present-writing purges, but just slightly...*Caution, could be considered graphic* [706 words] [Horror] Dark Anger (Short Stories) A follow up, sort of, to Darkest Fairytale, sort of. [815 words] Darkest Fairytale (Short Stories) A story written out of the depths of confusion so it's a bit confusing to follow. *Could be considered graphic* [1,571 words] [Drama] Ending (Poetry) Just a few questions I asked once upon a time ago... [21 words] Escaping Reality (Short Stories) This is an account of a real event that has a fictional ending...the ending that I know she wanted. [981 words] God's Retribution (Short Stories) A follow on story written in early January. God is displeased and one child suffers the consequence. [425 words] [Spiritual] Remember...Do You Remember? (Genres) A long prose that asks tough personal questions which require deep internal self-examination to find the answers...if answers can be found. [271 words] [Mind] Taken Fetus (Non-Fiction) Ripped from within her. [697 words] Tempest: Calming The Storm (Short Stories) Inner turmoil ... can it be calmed? *Caution, could be graphic* [771 words] The Frustrating Switch (Short Stories) What happens when stress takes me beyond the breaking point? This is glimpse into my world... [667 words] [Psychology] Washed In The Blood (Short Stories) During a particularly depressing time and trying to find a way to cleanse myself of shame...well this story came to be. *Caution, could be graphic.* [631 words] When I Was Eight (Genres) A long three part prose about a dark desert night when a child was scared into submission. [501 words]
Seeking God Monica L Sprague
It was a dark night; not starless, but with no moon it was not bright. The breeze was steady and the cold December air bit cruelly with the breeze. We all stood there, by the edge of the water, watching the fountains play--four small and the great giant in the middle. Momentarily Winter Skye Phawn unbraided her thick dark hair and it immediately began to blow across her upon the breeze; she looked over at Lynnie, who had already done the same, and smiled slightly. It was the evening of the first new moon after the winter solstice and we all stood aligned, watching and waiting for the sign.
“What exactly is the sign?” I asked Marissa. Marissa closed her eyes for mere moments and then shook her head, sliding down into a seated Indian position on the cold pavement. There was silence for many moments and then Marissa spoke softly, as if from away at a great distance. “When the four great bulls rise upon two hind and dance lightly in the mist, when the two of half frame begin to join the reverie, and the great roar of god spews from among--the time is near. Wait, dear children. Wait! god will come in the rush of the breezes, the splash of the water; the rising of the fountain will surmount greatness not seen before, there god will be. Listen, dear children. Listen! god will whisper from the roar of the mighty fountain and he will beckon you unto him with the lure of the spray. Then, only then children, does he welcome you”.
We looked at the fountain, backlit by a dozen streetlights glowing pale along the main street behind them. An ethereal aire filled us as we watched and waited. The dancing of the fountains became theatre, the music of the water filling the night air. Moni began to suck her thumb and held her blanket tightly; Lynnie walked behind her and gently placed a hand upon her small shoulder, an assurance I assume. Marissa stood once again, noticeably shivering, and I wrapped my arms around her to warm her. All were here, in the darkness, awaiting the sign, awaiting the presence and magnificence of god.
Suddenly, the fountain in the center bubbled higher fully twice what it had been before and the rush of the water into the air became almost deafening. The smallest children took a step back, Moni backing into Lynnie abruptly and nearly knocking her back. The shape of the fountain appeared to change; it seemed to begin to curl back upon itself at the top edges, to become something other than just water spraying forth from a fountain. It seemed to all who were watching to become finger like, beckoning with a ‘come to me children’ lure.
We all stood still and silent, were they as unsure of what to do as I? We paused, which seemed only to anger the roaring waters and a fine mist at once came upon us, dampening our hair, our hearts and our spirits. I looked back at Winter, her hair lay still upon her shoulders and I realized for the first time that the breeze had left and with that the air suddenly seemed warmer. The dim lights from the avenue before us appeared to merge into one great light that illumined the great fountain before us, the four bulls dancing joyously around the edges of the pool. It was truly the presence of god, we all knew it to be. I stepped back immediately. Is this what I want? I doubted and with my doubt I knew would come great and intense retribution from god. Would I cause all with me to suffer and be lost because of my doubt?
I looked up high into the cold December sky, the stars seemed non-existent and the darkness almost peaceful and calming; at once I was back in the box, buried under the earth, warmed to almost uncomfortably hot and yet almost calmed by the tight space. I began to breathe heavily; almost a hyperventilation and Winter touched me slightly. She shook her head and whispered “you are not there now, Marcia, you are not in that tight space under the earth”. I nodded but continued to breath heavy until the world around me dimmed into nothingness; I felt myself lifted up and carried away by strong arms, warm strength and compassion. If this is god, I thought, then I am glad that he didn’t take my doubts seriously. I am glad that he still cares for me, I am glad that I am safe in his arms.
Submit Your Review for Seeking God
Required fields are marked with (*). Your e-mail address will not be displayed.