Porta Tessenaka / Tessenaca Gate
The verdant earth betrays what has been left behind:
a memory of a different time, when the psyche was
eaten and stuffed, filled and roasted, until one was tough
enough to fight even the sun.
Sacrifice made one lighter in the long run,
and also meant that the name of the Roda Mundansa, for so many years, was
blood.
After all, the Precursors did not make us to individuate, and to become one:
non-gaietic were originally created as a workforce, never meant to question, but simply to become
whatever they wanted us to be. And at the mercy of Gaia,
who could not quite understand what on earth was the purpose of a new version of an already-troublesome species,
there was nothing left but to fight against the trees,
the grass, the seeds,
those who created us, and refused to let us be
someone.
Someone who could transform, and individuate,
and learn how to become;
to know that becoming, too,
is a process second to none.
A beacon out at night;
a sense of real, honest, queer, breathing love.
Someone had to survive the Deluge.
Someone had to survive to become the next ones
to pretend they were gods.
At last, the cycle is known,
and at last, we can finally say
we will all become
whoever we always were, and whoever we are:
someone who is not tied down
by ego-pattern, by the fear of sacrifice, or even by the stars.
Someone who wants to be more than this.
Someone whose way through the gate
lies within, beneath each and every final, unerasable
green, verdant scar.