Large Fierce Mammal

World of Living. World of Dead.
A veil that lies between.
It bars the Dead from coming back,
Except on Hallowe’en.

I’m troubled that it’s strong and true
A year of days but one,
Then weakens with the setting of
The last October sun.

But all this lies beyond my ken,
Or powers to resolve,
And evil lurks the whole year through,
With constant threats to solve.

Excerpted from

~ Cold Iron and the Veil ~

I can’t speak for yours, but my ancestors believed that there are two worlds — those of the living, and of the dead — with a veil between. Such a metaphor lends itself to a certain bittersweet understanding so that, even as the harvest is joyously and thankfully brought in to be stored against a (hopefully) merciful Winter, the veil has grown threadbare by this time of the rolling year, and thus prone to to be torn in places as it ripples in the gusts that play along the borderlands.

This self-congratulatory “enlightened” age now takes such views as quaint and simple minded, fit only for childish mimicry and costumed shenanigans. And yet, while the nature of the veil, and the supernatural horrors it holds in check, are no longer acknowledged as matters demanding of precautions, most lives go on in denial that there are other veils, and those are very much real. Let’s look at one.

You get up at an appointed time, and if you hold down a job, you proceed through morning ablutions to arrive at the grist mill on time. Your work place is subject to regulation by any number of government agencies affecting everything from occupational health and safety to what words may be spoken to coworkers. Your expectation is that you will get up in the morning, go to work, and come home safe.

Your work may not make you happy, and you may harbour hope that this job may some day be left behind in favour of something that pays more. Because that’s how it’s supposed to work, right?

Most people you’ll meet fit into some iteration of this pigeon hole, spinning their way on their endless hamster wheel of life. In down times, some read, although far too many find blessed distraction through some combination of self-medication, “reality” television, and the latest panic attack drama on social media. They routinely find hope in the rhetoric of political candidates as an alternative to the Truth — that unless you’re adrift at sea in a life boat, real salvation comes from within.

One day, the news carries a horrible and tragic tale. A child killed by a bullet meant for another. For a few critical minutes, a down town street has been turned into a free fire zone in the middle of the business day. Ordinary people shopping and grabbing a latte are screaming and running for their lives, some are filming the excitement. All are oblivious to the thinness of another veil.

Police quickly move in and cordon off the area. Nearby office buildings go into lockdown for the safety of the domesticated and helpless inside. While a mother wails on the street outside,  those cowering in their helplessness have time to think about things like the dental surgery they’ll soon need due to repeatedly tearing open packages with teeth that are a poor substitute for even a modest blade.

The police cordon is opened and a soothing announcement made that the child’s tragic death came from crossfire in the shooting of a young male “known to police” that was “not random”. Outrage at a child’s death vents itself to flaccidity in the face of official promises to “tighten up gun control”, even as the veil closes to obscure the view of what has truly transpired — a business transaction between entrepreneurs on one side of the veil has been closed, absent any reason to care about negative environmental impacts on the other.