Queen of Heaven
Goddess, of, desire, love, sex, fertility, beauty, war, justice, political power and justice
Imagine for a moment, that you know exactly what you want, and you know exactly how to get it. I say, imagine, because that’s a rare point in space, and time, where those lines converge.
Often, we know what we want, but have no clue how to get there. Sometimes we are given the choice of anything we want, but can’t figure out what we need or really desire. When both align in the stars, it’s a rare moment — so rare it can feel frightening if you aren’t sure what has happened.
So, imagine.
When those stars align it feels like a bright day, with the sun high over a grassy meadow of new growth, surrounded by lush and fawn. The heat of the sun warms your skin at a perfect degree for the western wind to keep you cool. Let’s face it, you’ll fall in love more often than this moment occurs in your life, right?
There you are, out there in the middle of this mountain paradise, and on the edges, around you, stand five men. Each of them lead to the same place — the exact place you want to go. Each of them is a path to that place. Yet, each of them is unique. And you are unique with each of them.
Each one coupled with you creates far more than just the two of you could measure. A newness is born, a wonder so wild it moves your hair like a zephyr when you feel it. Hell, just knowing he is with you, alters you in ways you never imagined — and when he’s holding your hand, the feeling is indomitable.
With them, you are a kaleidoscope of experiences and nuance.
Now, take a hammer, and break four of those glass rings.
Shatter all you are with each of the others, and choose — one.
“I am so fucked,” I whispered.
“Excuse me dear?” Inanna asked.
“Oh, just thinking about tonight,” I told her.
“Ah, well, I think you’re fucked, but don’t take that to heart,” she said, picking up some flowers, and sorting them in her hand.
“Jeez, thanks,” I grimaced.
“You don’t like being fucked? I do. I like it a lot,” she smiled.
Her house was about twelve kilometers East of the Euphrates river. Maybe 55km East of Samawah. The small town of Warka in Iraq is close to where Uruk use to be – a couple kilometers North. Urik is a ruins on the surface, in our time. You can only reach Inanna’s house outside of time, by dragon. Her house is not a ruin, and far more modern than I expected as my dragon descended into an area that looked like a lot of dirt in all directions. But from the sky, there are plenty of signs, which say at one time, this land was green and well-watered. It was the cradle of life. Hell, according to Genesis, Eden was only a few kilometers away. Obviously, the garden is located outside of time now as well, but the description of the area given in Genesis is fairly clear.
The garbage disposal and wireless Internet connection told me I wasn’t dealing with real physics – or physics I understood, anyway, which was just about all of it. OK, I understood none of it – I’m not even good at chemistry.
“Ore set up the wireless,” she explained. “Raw did all of the plumbing.”
The house was like a huge royal garden. White lattice rails formed a ceiling of sorts, about twenty feet above – some areas with wide spaces and glass covering, some areas the lattice created intricate designs of flowers, dolphins, and scenes with humans and gods, trees and temples.
Climbing nearly every wall were jasmine vines, trimmed and thinned out so that they didn’t create big bunches or bushes. The scent of them licked every breath. Sandalwood benches carved with delicate scenes of lovers and fantastical beasts, were spaced out adding their light but unmistakable scent to the air.
Plants created room separators, such as the Arabian balsam tree, and lilac bush, which was more of a shrub really, and the tree a source of myrrh, which is derived from its sap. Walls created of marble stone — polished to a beautiful and vibrant gloss created bedrooms, and other areas of the house.
Inside this amazing creation were also electric lights, huge flat TV screens, laptop computers, and one of those voice operated things they sold now.
Paintings on easels stood everywhere – though I had the feeling that while they were good, they were copies of the master pieces. Inanna confirmed this when I asked, saying it wasn’t right to remove such treasures from the world to hide in this space where they could no longer be accessible to the people who created them.
By people she meant the general population, not just the small army of servants, and workers from all over the world who worked the gardens, cleaned the floors, polished, trimmed, and did all manner of other jobs around the place. Each of these people believed they worked at a local private home, and arrived here through a long driveway past a large gate. None of them realized where they really were or who they worked for. Since all of them seemed happy, this didn’t bother me.
Inanna moved like a mime might portray a predator walking through the house, only more subtle, and graceful. The edge was there, however. Her voice tone carried, yet remained soft and patent. She wasn’t the Goddess Inanna, which she reminded me three times thus far. The Goddess, the original, was in Ireland – or somewhere else. They didn’t keep in touch. To her, Inanna was a tittle, as it would be for me.
“My parents named me Karen,” she told me, the first day I arrived. “That was over two hundred years ago.”
Right now she was busy creating flower arrangements, something she was wonderful at, and enjoyed. I sat watching her, trying to keep my thoughts away from the brothers, and failing miserably.
“You see that covered cake plate over there? There’s a pound cake inside, could you bring it over?” she asked me.
After I set it on the table she handed me what looked like a Ming Dynasty vase. The kind with the pot belly and narrow neck. Not too narrow, but perhaps half the width of the belly.
“There’s a knife on the counter. Could you put the cake inside?” she asked.
“Alright,” I shrugged, looking at the round pound cake, which was like a huge donut. Taking the knife and looking at the width of the vase neck once more, I cut the cake into pieces and put them inside. I had to be careful because the vase walls were thin and fragile. If I tried to put in a piece too large, it would shatter the wall.
“Perfect,” she said, when I had finished.
“So, what are you going to do after I move in?” I asked.
“Well, I’m going to die of course,” she said.
“What!?” I said, alarmed.
“You don’t need to be like that,” she said. “Trust me, I’m ready. I feel it. I’m mortal, just like you. My youthful looks are maintained by the Inanna strain, but I’m over two hundred years old, and frankly, I’m ready to move on. I feel a longing to be elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” I asked.
“I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s not a place I know or have ever seen. I feel the need to be there though, like I should have been there long ago. There’s nothing else left for me here. People will miss me. I know that, but only because they aren’t ready to move on themselves yet; but I am. I can’t wait for them. In waiting I’ll just meet more people, who will then miss me as well. I can’t wait for all of them.”
“I suppose not,” I said, not feeling any better about her leaving so soon.
She gave me a kind smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow up all your life. Y’know, I was there in the hospital when you were born. Most of the time we don’t feel the Other until a couple years after her birth, but I felt it when you were conceived. I flew to you as soon as I could, and talked with your mother a couple of times. I even felt you moving inside her womb with my hand, twice.”
She smiled, looking back across time to picture the moments. “I was so happy you were there, so very happy. Since then, life has been good again. It was getting hard there for a while. Dark. All was dim. Not even the stars on the far side of the moon were bright any longer. I watched cherry blossoms fall with longing – longing to be them – jealous I wasn’t floating away too.”
She turned her attention back to her flower arrangement, and with a glance, gave me a shy smile, “Don’t feel bad, OK? Just wish me well. You’ll be passed most of my memories. You’ll see I was happy, and you’ll have some understanding of my growing sadness until you arrived.”
“Alright,” I nodded, not sure I could do as she asked. Despite everything that happened before, I felt close to her; closer to her than to my mother. It was odd, but there was nothing for it – it just was.
Inanna returned my smile, then turned more serious and set the new flowers into the arrangement. When I stepped around behind her, I could see the placements created a Phoenix, rising out of darkness.
Inanna took my hand, “Now, let’s talk about your choice.”