When once she might speak, but ever sits silent. He waits for her voice to comfort, but when will he learn that he has waited in vain. Imagined her lips. Again and again, moving around the words that he longed to hear. Did she breathe. It is the eternal second right before she says that sweet something. It has been this moment for as long as he’s had his eyes set upon her.
He loved her so deeply and completely. Once. His waking thoughts and dreaming evenings were filled with her scents and touches. Once. Tiny promises of meaning and satisfaction. Heart is full, of time and work, devoted to this lovely god of mute.
Investing or arresting the pieces that did not serve. Finding the balance and tipping the scales to accommodate a love for her. There was a time when he thought she loved him. A time when he thought she loved. Anything. At all.
Now. Another god speaks. But he was already hoping, trusting, fearing and worshipping his one true god. Suspicious of this other voice, that began to light up his present darkness. Another god speaks. But he didn’t want to fight another battle for another heart. Suspicious of his growing interest, that began to darken his antecedent light.
Days and weeks, he tries to ignore. That his god is not as beautiful as he once thought. That he can’t find any more reasons to pretend to love her until the end of time. Her lips have worn thin. Her golden hair has faded under the settled dust. Her sparkling eyes are dull and vacant, but have they ever been any different? She still boasts beauty, in her queen-like silence. But was she ever beautiful, or was he again under a spell? He feels something, deeply, familiar, but maybe it’s just a memory of his unresolved affections. For her. For what?
Hear O Israel. The Lord is our God. You shall love the Lord God with all your heart soul and strength. And you shall have no other gods before me.
Zeal exposed. That he is becoming zealous for another. Another her. Excitement anew. Rekindled passion. Loyalties realigned. Another god. And she is a new beautiful. She has become a new breath of life. For him. For now.
Yet the guilt of that first love holds his heart. With a young man’s dedication. Imprinted by her, his passion for the first her shaped his life. He cannot forget, his first god of beauty. She made him believe. She made him taste hopeful for the very first time. She is also destroying him. By her dissolving. Breaking his heart, he waits for a word. Slaying his soul, he loses the world. He loses his purpose. He has lost himself. Who is he now in relation to this world, when his god is no longer?
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?
Sad, angry, the truth must stand. Despite his trust in a god. No matter which is true. There should have been no other. And yet, he has lost, or he has taken, another god.
What was his blindness to his first god, and his second, or third, and how many more are to come? How many gods will have their way with his heart and soul? What is good and true, that keeps hope in his new tomorrow. Today, he is deeply disappointed. Because he has already loved in a previous life. Because what had seemed real is now also what now seems real. The love that he had trusted, based on experience, will end up being just as flimsy. He thought he knew his limits, his desires, his boundaries. So now he wonders. Has he betrayed himself? Has he betrayed his ambition? Is his loyalty to his god, any god, every god, irresponsibly shallow?
In the mourning wake of her absence, however, how ever could he love another? Is it possible? To love as naively and completely as the first god demanded. When she is gone, when she is silent, when her beauty has turned rancid. Will he risk it again? Dedicating his purpose. Finding his meaning. All over again. He won’t again be so stupid, but has he learned his lesson? Still mourning the god that has since uncreated him.
Mourning the loss of a god. Exposing the zeal. Imagined what was real. Only so many times that one can die for another, self-sacrifice for the greatest good, until he doesn’t believe himself anymore. How many times is it for the greatest good? Whether true or false, has his heart wavered? Has his faith broken? His zeal was fooled.
Mourning. The morning. Where zeal was sealed.
Where finally, she walked from his tomb.