The Rocker


By Lynn Bassett

She was lost in thought, as she rocked her youngest grandchild in the heirloom rocker that had been handed down to her from the elders of the coven. It was the single most exquisite thing she had ever owned. Made of walnut ,  handcarved ivy and roses entwined the arms of the rocker. The same ivy and roses encircled a relief carving of a rose mandala and this decorated the back and seat of the rocker. She loved this old rocker, worn down by years of use and love. Just as she herself had been worn down through the 90 some years she had been alive. Such a long life she thought, so full of love and suffering. No wonder my hair is so white and my bones so painful. As her thoughts swirled she looked down into the face of the most wondrous creature, her great, great grandson. What a vision of beauty he was, so blonde, such blue eyes. dear goddess save him from the curse that has plagued the males of the coven for thousands of years. She prayed that this boy might remain the pure innocent he was at present and not become ugly and disfigured by the cruelty that invaded the spirits of those who came before him. Blessed be, my angelic Gabriel may the goddess protect you. I love you so my perfect one.


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