The Vision of Stella Niagara

Stella Niagara Preserve

 

She ran along the sidewalk,

House after house zoomed by

On this hot and listless summer day.

She ran

Past the nunnery on the opposite side of the road

At once welcoming and imposing

Past a statute of Michael the Archangel

Whose wings spread out towards the river behind him.

She ducked, then climbed through a metal gate

And ran partway down the hill.

To her left was a small pasture on a decline

That sloped sharply at first behind her

Then gently

Towards a quiet river.

Not too far in the distance

Upon a cliff above the river

Sat a small, old chapel

With white paint,

A sloped, brown roof,

And topped with a bell tower.

It hadn’t been used in years.

It sat silently.

The little girl took a sharp right turn

Into a small grotto

Chasing a floating speck of light.

The sky suddenly turned as black as midnight.

The sun was gone,

And up above dazzled a thousand stars.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

In front of her was a statue of a young girl

Holding a rosary

Praying before a statute of Mary

Who held a bouquet of roses in her holy hands.

The Marian statue was set into a misplaced wall of old stones.

To the girl, both statues had always just been there.

They felt lifeless,

Hollow.

Today, she’d see a vision.

To the left of Mary

Was an archway

Always left curiously empty

As if waiting for this exact moment

To reveal its secret contents.

The small orb of light

The girl had been chasing

Suddenly shot up into the now-night sky

And became the brightest star.

Its light filtered down from the darkness above

And shone directly into the empty archway.

Just then,

The faint outline of a woman

Making slight movements with her arms

Appeared.

The girl then heard an ethereal voice from all around her:


Behold, fair child.

I am the antidote to your current age.

Even from behind this spiritual light,

I can see the possession within your mind.

Tricksy angels and spirits

Set it there

Among your ancestors

Long ago.

It’s still there today,

Passed down to each of you now living.

It’s up to you

To unwind it.

To take it apart.

To dismantle it.

Piece by mechanical piece.

This possession

Has captured your entire imagination.

You must free it.

To do so,

Recognize what is.

You run along these stolen lands

Blissfully unaware of the troubles inflicted by your people.

But how could you know?

You are so young.

Learn what happened to those who were here before

And are still here today

For they have the knowledge

Of how to repair the world.

Go and tell the sisters here

The ones who live above the hill

To partner with this land

To revere it.

Tell them to look to the stars

And to the spirits of the land

And to the old stewards

For guidance.

You must do the same.

It is the only way

To save yourself.


Above her head,

She heard a chorus of music.

The stars began to slightly quake

As they shook themselves loose from the night sky.

They drew together to form a circle

That slightly descended into her hands

By starlight.

It was a rosary.

The girl,

Never having said a prayer in her life,

Knelt down

And began to pray

Moving her fingers along each stellar bead.

The sky

Snapped back to daytime.

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Descendants / Ancestors

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A Riot of Roses