A Brief Gaze

The speculation still reigns to this day. Is it? Was It? Are they? Did they? Is she? Will she be found? The murmurs sound incessantly. The pleas to the unborn reign incessantly. It creates a thought form world of its own. A realm of speculation where each and every possible avenue exists to be wandered down. Each and every nook and cranny of cyberspace has the answer. Has the solution. The reason they did this ... and they did that. There is every conceivable explanation for the DNA found in the room. Every wrong move done or wrong thing said. Each and every second has been expanded into minutes ... hours ... days of assumptions. An elastic band stretched and stretched to breaking point.

Because of human weakness, the condemned live in the padded death cell. But still no sight or sound of either a living or a not-living child has not been uncovered.

There are numerous 'dodgy' sightings and much wanton speculation. That was when the white billowing clouds willing provided visuals for the excited and expectant crowd. But now ... after the vultures seem to have circled and have left with virtually no titbits on which to fatten ... there is only silence.

But it has not ended the speculation. It has not ended the chitter chatter on the forums. Within blogs ... everywhere in cyberspace it continues. At light speed to somewhere which nobody knows ... a destination seemingly unplanned.

But the inevitable will be a solution. Or a sighting. Or a return. Or a mourning. More than likely a safe return when it suits the great whoever ... the man in the moon who knows just where the perfect crescent replica is kept in hiding. Her destination is known by an elite group of people. The same group who have links to the outside world and observe the endless murmurs that circumnavigate the internet. They must laugh and chuckle at some of the juicy gossip that fills the imaginary pages within cyberspace ...

Tonight's Servant of the Light is but a brief gaze ... the Three of Spheres and the spokesperson dressed 'like the fool' ... the servant well versed in saying what is written on the table whilst hiding out of view what is really the gist of the situation. Three facts are offered in the future ... the three titbits thrown to the crowd. Relating to the flower, the star and the heart .... Behind him the thousand points of light shine. Only those behind the scenes know the significance of those light sources and their interest in this situation.

But know between him and those light sources are the big red curtains of a theatre or a stage. They are drawn back tightly to the left and the right of the stage. He sits upon his rickety wooden chair before his circular table upon the stage ... busily speaking those words he has learned to say hoping all the while that he can be kept mutually exclusive from it all.