Shannon's Dreams POV:
The crown affixed atop my Madonna head is a gauntlet of the ocean, platinum, diamond, blue velvet, and sapphire, my navy robes, and pinky underdress and swollen belly fructating as the angels sing my praises.
"Holy, Holy, Holy is She," the angels and demons adore, those who have raised me up as disciple, up as the Woman Clothed With the Sun. I stand atop the moon, the sun my aura, Christ to my right, God to my Left, the Holy Spirit above, as the angels and demons sing my praise.
"What is the meaning of this?" I cry, reaching out to Lucifer, the Covering Cherub, who veils my glory with his six wings of rain.
He kisses my brow. "You are holy amongst women."
I look to Christ. "Yeshua, what is this? I hate this."
"You are the Daughter of Zion. The Woman of Bethlehem. The Daughter of God. The Handmaiden of the Lord." Yeshua kneels to me and kisses my feet, then rubs my swollen belly.
