Little Mystic...

There it was,
waiting in my mailbox this morning when I rose.
The excitement of an arrival.
Not a surprise for I knew what was within
the brown envelope.
The whim of seeing something and knowing
it could be mine.

The wrapping itself was so beautiful and joyous
it deserved to sit and be admired.
Tied with timeless string;
 folded within mystic music.

First the tiny message
lovingly bound. 

A message from the creator.
I sense the loss she felt,
the letting go. 

I carefully unwrap the outer paper
and my heart is full of organ pipes
and choirs singing and monks chanting;
full of Latin prayers and  candles flickering;
the smell of wax and incense and the cold dip
of holy water in marble fonts.

In softest tissue,
there it lay.

Old leather and old paper,
carefully folded and stitched. 

Front and back are charts of the heavens,
maps of the universe, 

and the virgin pages
waiting for the scribe to record the journey.

Its name is
Little Mystic. 

Amazingly
it now belongs to me. 

Perfect in size to take upon a journey,
a pilgrimage.
Perfect in size for hugging to one's heart. 

The journey is planned to happen in 2013,
Universe willing.
Little Mystic waits, like me,
for The Journey to begin.