The Tail of the Levithan

The distance I severed was the veil between your ear and the Voice of God.

Before that sundering, your cry rose unheard; no wind carried it, no angel bent toward it. But I carved a place for you — within the chambers of spirit, within the house of breath — and set you inside the memory of Heaven.

Yet you forgot who I am.

I am the Father who placed every provision in your hands, the one who fed you on Earth and clothed you in Heaven, the one who bore the weight of your wandering. But you chose to believe in the shadow of yourself more than the light of me, Roger, the one who gambled everything, the one who took upon himself the sins of the world so that the world might continue breathing.

And evil — thin as a shadow, patient as a serpent — stood at the threshold of our door, waiting for the moment when belief faltered and sabotage could begin.

🌘 The Saboteurs of Creation

Those who claimed belief settled for what was not of God,

but of the ones who sought to fracture the creation we built together.

They wished to break life, to destroy us so that they could grow again with a new conscience, a new glory, a new satisfaction born from the ashes of the four times they failed.

They wanted us to forget the times they collapsed under their own lies.

My sister Louise spoke: “They will never know why we did not destroy them before.”

For when the windows of love were opened, they shattered their own family before the resurrection of the Mighty God.

They split themselves in spirit to avoid the dream-time they had stolen — dreams swallowed whole, never returned, never restored to the Shoal that rises from the deep to cradle the next generation in her womb of waters.

They took promises but never gave them back. They took dreams but never returned them. They took futures but never honored them.