Awakening

The Awakening

The summer storm pounded it’s fury upon the little green apples and they reflexed back, and were pounded again, and caressed by the leaves on the tree they shared.  The long slender stalks of the daylillies swayed in the hard wind and the nearly opened blossoms fell heavy towards the saturated soil.  The wind blew across the lime green wheat fields providing the sensation of ocean-side waves, ebbs and tides of lushness succumbing to the squalls, swirling in the gusts, trying as they might to remain upright.

She stood there, receiving the sky’s waters, letting it pelt her with coolness, dousing her hair and shoulders and arms with refreshing rain.   And, she turned her face into the drops, tender shower from the heavens, dripping long streams of coolness over her brow, down her nose, her cheeks like tears that come with joy. She closed her eyes, she breathed in deeply the earth scents that rose from the soil and grass and mulches of the gardens.  There she stood, like most others do not, accepting the feeling of being part of it, being one with the sky and the earth and the clouds and the trees and the grasses, and mostly, herself. She was with herself then, remembering who she was, who she had been, whom she may, even, become.  It was all apparent then.

She was taken to times long long ago, to a world more distant in the past than she had memory to recall.  She went to a stable to a horse and hay scent and barn smells, and coolness. She was draped in a dress not of her times, not of her places, never before remembered.  The building was made not of wood and metals, but of stones and clays from a field, with colors so rich and a roof made of now graying wheat straw. The horse was an ancient breed, not of this era with a thick neck and a short stature, golden like the sun, with a mane nearly black, and he nickered to her, as they must have been friends.

A man approached, wearing garb unfamiliar to her, leather boots, with straps to his knees, and golden hair that fell upon his shoulders and framed his beautiful face.  His approach brought unimaginable feelings to her, a tingle of awareness and knowing, that he was her beloved, her only, the one.  His smile was tender and gentle and kind, and she turned down her eyes to hide her soft blushing, to shy from his devout gaze, the depth of his blue-green eyes and the message it sent. And, then, before she could acknowledge her longing for him, like a flash, she returned to the present, to the rain and the earth scents.  She stood in the damp coolness, the warm breeze now chilling her, sending a quiver up her spine.

And, that was the moment when she knew she had been there, and he had been hers, but not forever, only in a brief, but intense and powerful and pure love they shared.  And, the rain, now softly ending, and the sun, now striving to be seen, unveiled a rainbow in the slate colored sky.  The drenching of her hair sent streams down her cheeks, and as the trickles rolled down, over her lips, she tasted her salt, for she was then crying, an indistinguishable flow of dew from the soft rain, except for its stinging flavor.

There, alone she stood, with the final realization, an opening of her mind, to a world only her soul had known, and the man who was her lover, and a love unrealized, unfulfilled, pure and strong, but, incomplete.  Her heart ached for him, now, a postponed finale to a love story greater than any yet told. She was alone, then, in her world, in her thoughts, but, not completely, for, now uncovered, now discovered, his essence was not to leave her soul.  His spirit would not leave her, perhaps not for an eternity, not until that inevitable love was realized, and the love was at last complete, sometime, somewhere, together, when their hearts would touch again, in a time yet unveiled.

copyright 1997