Thursday, 24 November 2016
[COLOR=magenta][SIZE=12][FONT=Times]Tendrils of smoke billow out, snaking upwards as it touches the edges of clouds, essences of white purity gracefully dancing across the sky.
I pray the passage of time be short, for those clouds to awaken and let descend droplets of flakes to quench these fiery gates.
Strong are these gates that stand still preventing the horrors to escape to the plains.
Soon then this ashen waste will be settled with the stillness of snow, the land’s blanket cover now so it can sleep and heal. A new beginning will soon be birth in spring.
Oh how I yearn for that day, when the darkness is but a memory and the buds of the first evergreen leaves sprout, the melting waters washing clean the vestiges of the past, and the songbirds sing once more.
The night is still very much here, the fever has passed yet its umbra still dwells, I am changed, as the lands have also changed. For with the journey has been arduous, with many steps still to follow, each one a reflection of the seeking of one’s soul.
My steps will follow the clouds across sands whose steps will soon be erased by tides of winds as the sweeps the land as it prepares for the coming night as memories will be forgotten.
For a mere instant I can pause and with shut eyes remember the touch of gentle head resting on my shoulder, and even after keeping a small red string as it clung to my clothing.
I reach to the pocket covering my heart, hand pressed over that strand and feel waiting for the beat to echo across hands palm connecting heart to strand, and a smile blossoms, yes indeed the fever is passed. I am healed at last, but for the forsaken there is no redemption.
I will return from the west in the spring, if the gods are willing, but I will return to silence, it will be my gift for I do not know what words would ever suffice.
I will walk under the budding trees as the hibernation of healing passes and I will catch the rays of light on my palms.
I will listen to the singing of the morning birds as they sing to sleep the twinkling stars. I will walk again under these stars and make wishes hoping that one may fall and rain dust upon me and my wish be granted.
I will walk again with weapon in hand ready to battle any and all for the glory of the red goddess. I will walk again in silence.
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Matt Shadowsong posted @ 09:29 -
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