A solemn illumination befalls on a darkened old tree. Its branches bare of leaves only decay and rot remain. A knotted rope with frayed ends hangs blowing in the cold wind, the bones of crows fades to dust. Forlorn for three millenniums this gallow tree has stood its place, with roots so deep they feel the fires of hell fed by the countless dead that has decorated its once mighty branches. It lies by the border of a ruthless land full of rivals torn of war, behind it lay the forest of ancients, where only cowards from failed battles hide, because the fear of those men are so great only so deep would they go. On the side of that tree there lay a road so old its destination has been lost in time. Only the trees know the way.
As imagination guides us past that evil with so many necks that have been broken we seek to follow this road of wonder and fright. Studying the path and the pebbles that lay only shows that age erased any foot of man or track from carriage. As the light slowly fades only to show splashes of prism sparks reflections from dew on the foliage, with no sound not even the shuffle of feet. Moving eagerly as darkness finally Overcomes from the thickness of these old woods. Only guided now by sense of something pure ahead and the feeling of love a soft glow in the distance that shows itself.
The view was like the sun but in these dense woods no sun touches the ground but natural all the same. In time and moments like these fear would surely rule thought, at present only a sense of bliss remains. Closer to the light the reflections blinding peering through shaded hands there holds a fountain made mingled of gold and crystal decorated around symbols of a language to ancient to remember. What was flowing in this pool was a liquid not like lead but as solid but flowing of every colour that is of this earth. The movements of this fluid so dizzying to the eyes to recall any form or flow. Just above floating and sleeping a vision of beauty no creature or work of art could compare. Her hair the colour of the sun sparkling on diamonds her skin the colour of all nations black, white brown all of Cree or kind. Around her lay a crimson haze. with no marks of religion or sects the liquid that lay between this beauty ripples and tries to grab and pull but a force obeys. The sound in the air so full of harmony no choir could imitate.

Is this a dream I ask her as I embrace her within my arms. She looks and smiles and takes me within the sky to lay upon the clouds. Her touch was gentle and we made love amongst the heavens and the stars. She laid me back on the ground and gave me a gentle kiss as my eyes felt heavier then they have ever been. When I awoke I was left near a small brook and a smaller sapling growing from the ground. Within my mind was a note left "You have given me back my faith and my life, with my tears I have given you this stream to refresh and drink from. To take my sorrows away. And to help grow this offering. For you have given me hope and with that I thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment