Tag: Fantasy

I fly, I exist (draft)

I fly, I exist (draft)

I am here
Though you may not notice
Above the trees I soar
High within the clouds
Looking down upon the earth.            
And so I guard you.

The wind lifts my wings,
I Coast down, my eyes closing
As I sniff the warm spring air.
Tilting my head, I come to land
My hooves clicking softly on the stone path.            
Though you can not see me.

This glade is my home
Far beyond the veil of knowing
Into a land where my like reside
Mystic in our presence
Forgotten with time            
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.

Folding my wings along my back
I walk along the steams edge.
My silken mane falls forward
As I bend to drink;
Crystalline liquid there to quench my thirst.            
And for a moment, I exist.

With a great bellow
I toss my head back and rear up.
Muscles stretch as I announce myself
To the world, knowing none could hear me
Yet wishing, just once, for some imagination.            
And then, suddenly she, too, was there.

A wee thing.
Golden hair falling to waist
Smiling as she look directly at me.
Seeing me.
And enjoying the majesty of it.            
A wee thing, smiling.

She clapped her hands for me.
Laughter floated toward me
Upon the breeze, spurning me forward
With great pride I raced on the wind
Wings spread as it lifted me up.            
I danced in the sky as she watched me fly.
 

I am here
And so I guard you,
Though you can not see me,
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.
And for a moment, I exist.
And then, suddenly, she, too, was there;
A wee thing, smiling.            

I danced in the sky as she watched me fly

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

The iridescent hues blur the world
As the sun sets in the west.
A lazy sense of finality settles
Like a mantle of time upon my shoulders.

Turning the corner visions assault me.
A bird chirps from a nearby tree.
I look around expecting you to be
Near enough– I could reach out and touch you if I tried.

Shaking ghosts from my mind I walk on down
The stairs to my comfortable home
Knowing I’ll be greeted by the wagging tail
Of my only child.

The comfort of having something there
Is never lost on me, though,
So I smile, pet the wriggling pup
Hang up my coat, and greet the cat.

I pause.

There you are again.
The comforting scent of familiarity
Wrapping me in the memories of
Love and friendship.

I must be loosing my mind.

Muttering to my pets, I drop my keys and open my
One piece of mail, only to toss it aside in disgust
Turning my back on the offending junk as it
Floats down onto the growing pile by the trashcan.

Unconsciously, I glide over to the stereo and soon
Music fills the room.
Looking down suddenly as yet another memory
Flashes though my mind and I chuckle at my find.

A bottle overturned— The pungent scent that had been
Taunting me since my return home–
Slowly dripping down the dark wood
And onto the carpet.

Avoiding the memories both
Joyful and poignant: the loss of you still fresh,
I quickly clean up the mess
And push aside the slight twinge of disappointment.

I knew you weren’t really here
And the ghosts were merely figments,
Yet, the possibility lifted
The stress and exhaustion for just a while.

Memories are a comfort.

And while I turn back and
Wander into my bedroom,
I failed to see a small
Gift left for me…

The white rose stands in the corner
Quiet and regal, wild in it’s mystery,
Bowed slightly in acknowledgment
That anything… can happen…