In the darkness of closed eyes,
there is fear.
There is a chill
down the spine,
an unknown place.
This stillness is foreign
until the hand grasps yours.
“I will guide you.
Come with me.”
In this perfumed hall
peopled by the Names of faith,
ruled by truth and justice,
where the great ordeal is carried out,
the soul stands terrified.
This great beast waits to swallow my heart
should I not be worthy
This great beast waits to devour me.
This great beast may eat my heart.
“I will protect you.
I will ensure that you are fairly judged.
I balance the scale so that it tips not
unless it must.
I will speak for you.”
When the feather’s scale drops to the floor
the soul lightens.
The child of He of the Embalming Place
moves on, guided by her Father’s hand.