Along a river they walked, sometimes holding hands, sometimes not. In the distance, children's voices carried on the warm spring breeze as Ariel's primrose hair shimmered in the Arc'teryxian sun, reflecting light as the river, as one reflects and mirrors the greater brilliance. She had asked about her father, if he was okay. The kinds of questions a normal seven-year-old doesn't ask, doesn't think to ask; the sort of questions that were unanswerable. So they walked, sometimes skipped, stuck their toes in the water and picked flowers as if they had never seen flowers before. And it was true. They had never seen flowers like these. And it was also true, the joy and happiness and love Kyra saw on Ariel's face was almost more than she could bare. A thought, a feeling, not of lightness or of love, but of something other, something that once, sometime ago, was not there; and, at one time, perhaps a time when she walked and skipped and laughed like Ariel, perhaps a time where Papa walked the beaches of Valla with her as she did now with Ariel, she knew not of this heaviness, this weight felt in the shoulders and down the back, this weight that furrow brows and turned lips down, this weight that pulled bone and muscle downward, toward the ground, and one could not help but think the body was ready to go, to go where it knew it would, where dirt would be tossed below shinny feet and flowers, like these flowers, would give of themselves, a final act, a final brilliance above ground, in the shimmering light, as they were now, just the two of them, along the river, among the flowers.
3 comments:
The imagine...LOVE IT, love the purple. For some reason, purple appeals to me. :-)
Innocence yet not really. They both have their own cross to bear, their work cut out for them. The feeling of "unconditional love" is what I am seeing, not as mother/daughter or even friends, but two individuals, that share a common yet uncommon bond. Ugh...I AM NOT A WRITER and can't seem to get what I feel on paper...so you'll have to live with...
:-)
Tight Hugs
Love, love, love, dum, de, dum...Nothing I can say to your writing that is not drenched in the word, along with the feeling, of love. I love how already with your title in combination with your artwork, with first impressions so to speak, seeds are sown in the mind of the reader that the imagination quickly brings to flower. The image, looking like a bed of flowers seen from above connects so beautifully with the very first line of the writing, a sentence that I love for many reasons, above all for the simple beauty, like the single flower. Along a river they walked, sometimes holding hands, sometimes not. Beautiful.
At this point, one knows not who it is. I may have thought for a moment it was Em and Trev, not sure if I quite got that far, but certainly the moment I found this was Ariel and Kyra, the beginning sentence became all the more lovely. Further along in the post, other tones are more obvious, but the contrast was begun with such artistry in the mere mention of the colour of her hair, which due to a very recent chapter begin about John and Cait, and this being the first mention of Ariel thereafter, in this reader's mind at least along with the beauty of the image created, the warm spring breeze, her hair shimmering in the sun, there was also the thought of wherefrom her haircolour came and the two chapters became more connected. ...what are those colourful paper ribbons called that people, loved ones, friends, would throw from dock to deck and deck to dock as they made their farewells...as dock and deck, this chapter and the recent John chapter, threw paper ribbons until there was no doubt that John was a part of this chapter just as Ariel and Kyra. The first part certainly. The second part is the greater part of a subsequent comment, for which time is short here and now, but for now, it is written as you write, with beauty and intensity, with feeling creating feeling.
To put it in the simplest possible way, you are an amazing man and an amazingly gifted man.
Sweet dreams Poppet.
Thank you both for your loving comments. Love and hugs I send as surely as the sun upon the flowers or the rain upon outstretched tongues.
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