Tale: From A Dream

 

Like a candle in the breeze he flickered and faded before coming to life once more, and as his thoughts came and went,  he felt like he was a drowning child trying to keep his head above the water’s surface, grasping into thin air with his outstretched hands, waiting and hoping that someone would finally come and save him. His tiny body lay submerged, holding onto his last breath for what seemed like forever as he fought to stay alive, but then was it really him or the Tree that now wavered?

 

The visions had come and gone and the small boy stood with his eyes tightly closed as he ran his hands across the rough tan and grey bark that was ridged deep with lines like fingerprints which lay embedded in the surface of the broad tree trunk. It stood tall and wide, and in the breeze the leaves rustled like tiny strips of sand paper rubbing together, making a sound like gentle summer rain on a rusty tin roof. It had been a long while since he had taken the time to allow his senses to stir, feel so deeply so that he had became one once more with the Tree, and as he did he felt that something was not quite right. As flecks of bark broke between his tiny fingers, so he remembered that it was only with words, which were air and water, that the Tree could be sustained and of late they had been few and far between. He climbed into the Tree, and standing quietly he looked at how empty it had become, the desolation was almost tragic, with the bedraggled remains of the last of the butterflies and dragonflies, hanging like glistening raindrops on string. As he wondered he struggled to comprehend it all, at the same time digging deep into himself to find where it was he went wrong. He gazed at the ‘Book Of Dreams’ with its cobweb laden cover, and he brushed it clean, giving a final puff of breath to blow the last of the dust away that had fallen upon it. He sat down and reflected on the past and the wishes that had been cast, and he wondered to himself, ‘if only I had made a wish for me, what would it be?’ He had known no other way than to look at what others needed, it was something that he believed was his responsibility, as if wearing his magical blue coat had come with some ingrained proviso, and then he did get something, it was the smiles that were more precious than the stars. 

 

As he thought, a vision formed upon the branch where his friend would usually sit, an apparition of a young girl with her hair tied in pink bows, smiling widely across at him. Of all the times and all the mysteries that had materialised before his deep, ever wondering bright blue eyes, he had never imagined that he would find himself faced with this vision that now sat before him. The butterflies and dragonflies took shape once more and they spun in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the Tree, the breeze that brushed against them made them hum like the fast beating wings of a tiny bird. The air became a whir and the small girl reached out as if to grasp at the delicate glittering objects as they spun wildly, and then in a moment she vanished once more as though she had never been there at all. The mobiles began to slow down and as they dangled in the soft dusk glow, their colours reflected across his face and filled his mind with the many memories of the words that they contained, the many words that could now be found in the ‘Book Of Dreams’. With his long blue coat wrapped tightly around his body, he climbed down from the Tree and there standing with his feet firmly planted, he looked towards the wheat field searching for any sign of the bright bushy tail of the little fox that he had come to know and tame some time ago. He cut a path through the tall grasses, running his finger tips across the coarse husks as they brushed on by his long slender legs, and as he searched he listened for the tell tale sound of laughter he remembered from long ago. 

 

He paused for a moment, and as he did he heard a sound, a soft whimper drifting on the breeze from nearby. He followed the sound, returning to the path and as he stepped upon the rough pebbled surface he looked along it and there, not far away he found the little fox looking tired and worn. He approached carefully so as not to alarm it, then he knelt beside the fox and as he did so it looked up at him with sorrowful eyes. He could tell that like the vision of his friend before, it too had begun to fade, and that the life had begun to subside from its being. The small boy sat close, and in the fading light the deep blue of the daytime sky gradually transformed into a soft silken blue, before the pink and orange tones began to slide across it, reaching out to the darkness in the distance and pulling forth nights veil with the colours receding once more below the horizon. As the daylight faded, it was as though a million eyes were opening one by one from their slumber and looking down upon him. The stars shimmered like tiny tears that the night wept, like a handful of diamonds, but more precious than the much sought after stones. He stared at the distant southern horizon and admired the slow dance of the infinite stars as they drifted into view and then  disappeared once more, rising and falling as quickly as they came. 

 

It was mesmerisingly beautiful, capturing his gaze like a child holds fast to the vision of the dragonfly that sits quietly within his upturned palm, glistening wings reflecting rainbow magic in the sunlight. The sounds of the the forest added to the mystique in the night and as the boy and the fox sat quietly, the heady aroma of the perfume laden night air drifted and filled their senses. The little fox lay its head upon the soft bed of flattened grass and closed its eyes, with the small boy watching over it whilst he listened to the all the sweet sounds he had come to know and thought of days gone past. He had never expected they would meet again, and a story from long ago reminded him that sometimes friends come and go yet he had held onto hope as he so often did that it would be once more. He closed his eyes and upon the breeze he was carried away like a dream into the darkest places of the mind. Here anything was possible, almost anything could come true, and nothing really mattered, because with the dawns light it would all fade and the realities of life would grasp hold of his fragile body as if it were being tossed upon the stormy ocean and dump him into what ever realm it had chosen.

 

In his mind he was a prince. Not a normal prince, but one whom spent his time in search of the mysteries that filled his days with wonder, like the glittering of water drops that hung, suspended from the tiny leaves of a forest tree, reflecting the image of anyone that should choose to stop and admire. As they shimmered in the breeze, the images that could be seen danced like they were captured in time for any that chose to look. There was a chill in the air and the night winds howled through the trees like the call of a lone wolf in the deepest darkest reaches of the forest searching in vain for something lost long ago, and the chill it brought was like death as it threatened to wrap him in its cold embrace. He remembered many a frosty morning when the small boy would come across the frozen dragonfly, clinging to the last bit of life as it lay motionless upon a blade of grass, covered in tiny flecks of ice, almost like snow flakes. The fox remained beside him all this time, fast asleep and oblivious to the small boys wonderings, with a tiny twitch every now and again as it dreamed about something that only it could know. The small boy reached deep into the pocket of his jacket and with his fumbling fingers he removed a small handful of magic and sprinkled it upon the fox, making a wish for good health and fortune to return. As the small boy wiped the strands of white hair from his eyes, he thought about the magic of the Tree and how it was far greater than could ever be perceived by a small child. How it could reach deep into the mind and extract most every thought that ever existed there, at the same time carefully wrapping them in the finest silken cloak protecting them from those that may wish to shatter them like broken dreams, scattered in pieces on the ocean of life and lost forevermore.

 

The darkness in the sky began to fade once more, and one by one the stars disappeared for another day, giggling as they went. The mother sun was rising to put her children to bed, and as the small boy stared into the bright orange orb, his face was bathed in its soothing light with the wispy clouds that filled the sky dancing off into the distance. There was a chill in the air, but a warmth filled him, sending a little shiver through his body as it absorbed the first rays of the morning light that radiated as the new day had begun. The warmth bathed the little fox and as she woke she gave a smile, then climbed to her feet before the small boy giggled and turned once more to look at the Tree, now silhouetted before him. As the clouds shifted shape, awash in the warming tones, it was like a dream turning to reality before his eyes. He thought about the past and how it was intertwined into the future, and now the hope for what the future may hold once more with a wish come true for him. Stirred by a familiar sound he turned his gaze from the tree and the fox was gone, yet in the distance a whispering voice came echoing to him upon the breeze, “I shall return my friend, I shall return.” Her laughter could be heard echoing through the forest, and he laughed back, smiling widely.

 

Today there were no paper boats, and no wishes upon stars, just a small boy and the Tree, contented with what he knew life had to offer, never fearful of what the darkness brings because sometimes it is what we wish for. After all are not some of the best things in life born from our wildest dreams.

 

 

Read Full Post »

Tale: Lost

The small boy sat in the confines of his own little world with confusion all around him. In the space of twenty four hours he had travelled through the outmost reaches of his mind and back again, and now he had never been so unsure. Words had come and gone like the sun and moon, but instead of light and happiness, they offered just a bitter taste for those that would write and read them. Where once flowers bloomed in the soft sunlight, now only the withered leaves on crooked stalks remained with the beauty of what had been long gone, colours faded like a weathered tapestry hung out to air, but forgotten. As the intricate details had been painted on the canvas that was his life, so they had just as quickly washed away, one by one fading into oblivion, to not become even a distant memory. He fought back the tears that formed in his bright blue eyes that until now had seen so clearly. Instead, where there was once a sparkle like the stars that filled the night sky, there was only darkness.

He now walked a different road, devoid of what he had come to know, with the magic that he had woven so often before now no more than an illusion, and not even a good illusion at that. For all that he had done, he now felt that he had let others down tenfold and his punishment was to walk forever more in the shadow of his memories. If only he could take back all the words and just replace them with a clearer understanding of what had truly been. Even now time seemed to stand still and the future remained an unknown that he feared more than anything he had feared in his life, even more fearful than death that he had seen and chased away time and again. He stared into the deep blue sky with its many clouds forming shapes that he no longer understood, at the same time he wondered if he himself was any more or just an apparition of a wild, delusional mind.

‘If only I could take back all that had been cast out for the world to see, I would do it in a heartbeat, I would accept whatever punishment awaited me just to change all the bad to good,’ he thought. Time was not his friend now, but he wished that forgiveness was easier to come by than he had seen, where misunderstandings are understood and eyes would see so clearly. But could that ever possibly be? In the chilled wind that blew, he huddled in silence listening for the faintest sign of life, of hope. Birds sang sweetly, and their songs were carried on the stiff breeze like the heady perfume of the flowers that no longer lay like a carpet before him. He stood mesmerised by the thoughts that now flooded from his mind and like a child grasping in the mist at some figment of the imagination, he watched as it all slipped through his tiny fingers. He turned his back on all he had come to know and understand as he prepared to journey now into the unknown realms of obscurity, falling, spiralling out of self control into the cold dark sea.

He struggled to take a breath as he fought to keep himself afloat, whilst all around him others watched on without a worry or a care. ‘How can this be?’ he thought as he tried in vain to reach out for familiar hands that may rescue him, pull him from the stormy seas that he had now been swept into, but they were gone. “Why is it that only I understand?” He shouted, in a last desperate attempt to be heard. “Can no one see me here, does no one care?” He uttered, as his voice faded, before he took that one last breath, and was pulled into the water’s cold depths, lost, to never be seen again.

Some say that if you listen carefully, you can hear his cries in the songs of the whales and dolphins as they travel carefree across the oceans blue. Others say his form drifts with the tides like a tiny paper boat, waiting for the day that he may come home once more, forgiven for all that he had done wrong, and for the wrong doing of others that he had taken full responsibility for. Until then, the stars that filled the night sky would offer those that had known him a token gesture in his memory if they so chose, but then like a shooting star he could be forgotten in the blink of an eye.

Lost inside the mind of a child,
Where the dreams that formed now drift away,
Gone with the stormy winds that blow,
Never to be seen again.

A faded distant memory,
Of all the things that came to be,
Banished to the waters deep,
From eyes it hides no longer seen.

Stars that twinkle in the night,
Reflecting now on waters clear,
Where sails the fragile paper boat,
Words all written true and clear.

Rescue me for I am lost,
Guide me with the light of life,
Burning in a lantern strong,
In the darkness of the night.

Read Full Post »

Poem: Life Like A Paper Boat

As age it wearies me and my mind wonders fair,

I look to find the last piece of me that the puzzle completes.

As I wander along on the path that is laid,

I look at the wonders which form before me,

Reaching here or there yet never to take hold.

 

Children play where once I had stood,

Singing words full of wonder of dreams I once held.

I stop in my tracks now surrounded by the memories,

Always looking back at what had been,

Wishing it could be once more.

 

Nothing lies before me now except the dark night,

Is this a blank canvas for me to paint or is it the end.

Like a paper boat that travels a stream,

Words written sailing out to sea for one last time under starry skies,

Blow strong winds to carry me to my destiny.

Read Full Post »

Tale: Drowning – The Rescue

As she continued to sink into the coldness that had all consumed her, with her vision blurred and her heart slowly beating to a stop, she felt a warm familiar gentle touch upon her hand, then upon the other one. She had come to stop mid water and with what strained vision she had, she could just make out the outlines of two small figures. She felt herself being raised gradually through the water and the pressure around her subsided like a weight lifted off her.
Then as the light broke through the waters surface streaming like tiny fingers taking hold, she could make out a flash of white that swayed in the water like delicate seaweed, and as she turned her head the most beautiful red glow was reflected in the beams of light that were now reaching deep below. A smile formed upon her near lifeless face as the realization of what was happening washed over her. 
When she reached the surface the fierce storm and the rough ocean that had engulfed her had gone, the water was so calm and so flat reflecting like a mirror her tired face, which looked now ahead to where before them the beach so familiar lay. She coughed and heaved with a deep groan as if expelling all the bad within and with that, her lungs released the water that had filled them so she could breathe once more.
The white haired boy and the girl with the red cheeks floated along side her, holding tight so she would not slip beneath the waves again, smiling with the reassuring looks that she had longed to see once more.

The sky was clear and sea birds flew, skimming the surface of the water as they went about their business. Nearby, the surface of the water was broken as a dolphin came in close for a look, with its large round eye staring lovingly at the three friends that were now reflected in its vision. It moved alongside them and they held on as it towed them towards the shore. 
As they sat on the warm sand with its fine texture wrapping itself around their tiny feet and toes, she turned to her friends and with a quizzical look she enquired. “But how did you know I was in trouble, how did you find me?” He smiled and without hesitation he explained. “Thoughts and words. That is what we have, that is how we know. We have read your words and we knew that you were in trouble. We have been searching for you for a while but you have been moving all over the place.” She smiled, and then the girl with her cheeks blushed red added. “It is as though you are a part of our thoughts, so when you were drowning, that part of you which connects with us called out ever so loud and well, we were a bit slow, but you were never in any danger, we would never let what we have fade then disappear.

She had known friends before, but these two friends were more special than pink donuts with sprinkles on them and that was saying something. They had always lifted her and the words they wrote and spoke were like the air that she breathed. She had been gone for some time, or so she thought, but they had never left her. 
It had been a while now since they had been to there, but as they looked up the beach, they could see the Friendship Tree in the distance and it beckoned for them to come and play once more. Words had filled it, and would always be its strength. They were the reason it continued to grow, ever tall, ever wide, ever strong. It was a special place, it was magical and today once again it would feel the life within. With a smile, the three friends stood and walked hand in hand through the field with all its flowers and memories, with the ladybugs, butterflies and dragonflies all coming in close to have a look at them as they walked. Theirs was more than a unique friendship, it was what many longed for, but would never come to know or understand, and as they climbed the Tree, all they had been came flooding back and words began to flow once more into the ‘Book of Dreams’.

Read Full Post »

Tale: Drowning

Angelica looked out across the disconnecting waves that rocked steadily beneath her, all flecks of hope fading in her quest to discern any outline of dry land. Utterly alone, she stared now into the darkening grey sky. No longer did the clouds form the fanciful shapes of elephants and ladybugs and breezy flags blowing from the tall masts of  fluffy white floating pirate vessels. Now they simple menaced, threatening to storm, and on this small yellow dinghy, Angelica knew without any cloud of doubt that she was absolutely defenceless.

Her face began to turn pale, then a frightening shade of green as nausea washed through her body in desperate waves, no longer a vague sensation, but drawing an overpowering, all-consuming, unavoidable dread in violent spasms up her throat, into her mouth. She leaned over the side of the boat wretchedly, for the first time grateful to be floating on the vast ocean alone where no-one could hear the endless emptying of her churning stomach, as the black waves grew ever higher around and under her.

She closed her eyes, wiping the remnant spit and spew from the corner of her mouth. Higher the dinghy rocked, then higher still, battered from one sharp salted crest to the next. Like a flicker, she remembered a time – long ago – when she was a pretty child in a flouncy dress, eating pink donuts at the top of a  cliff overlooking the ocean with two of her dearest friends. Together they had dreamed of diving high into the sky, then down below the sea’s calm, glassy surface, as though the ocean could only ever deliver the most delightful of daydreams, bringing all the prettiest, shiniest, most blissful fantasies to life. Now that same ocean writhed beneath her in all the power of angst and fury, churning and foaming like the stomach inside of her, empty already, but determined to empty itself again and again and somehow yet again, the bitter bile now fusing into the  dark foamy water.

‘Which is the real ocean, and which is the daydream?’ she moaned as her body cradled the side of the dingy, salt water stinging her face, lashing against it like an icy whip.’Where are those friends of my childhood, and why am I so utterly alone? Where did all that promised magic of forever go?’ She dared to open her eyes for a moment – dared to dream that a boy with wispy-cloud hair and a girl with a strawberry smile might find a way to float across the tumultuous water’s surface, somehow fixing her position in the endless ocean, guiding her back into calm waters with the power of their infinite magic. But here in this vast expanse of wave upon wave upon never-ending wave, there was no-one to find her, no-one to sing her to safety with sweet magical songs, no-one to promise her that this was just a frightful dream from which she would soon awake when the violent northerly winds subsided.

Still the dingy tossed like a doomed toy across the shattered surface, bouncing and crashing hard against the waves until in an instant, they crashed over it entirely, sending Angelica high into the air, then sinking deep below the surface, too tired to even dream of fighting the ocean’s immense, destructive power. ‘I am drowning,’ she said as the water filled her lungs, the words sounding like strange distorted thoughts as they emerged like the slowest bubbles from her mouth. And although she had always thought that her will to live would cause her arms and legs to flail wildly in resistance against the water when it chose to consume her, she surrendered each limb to absolute stillness, arms wide above her head, barely aware of where her legs floated somewhere beneath her. Her eyes no longer blinked and closed against the salt; the ocean now became the full embodiment of every tear she had ever cried, and all those she had been unable to shed.

‘They will find the dingy and know what happened,’ her thoughts washed through her mind like the constant surge that now wrapped again and again around her body in a foamy, salty shroud. ‘They will find me floating or washed ashore far from here. Or they won’t find me at all. I am almost a memory, even to myself.’ She knew now with certainty what people always fear to fully wonder about themselves, how and when their end would come. Angelica’s eyes glazed, staring without seeing. And though she could still feel the heart within her beat with the dullest pulse, like a gentle ebbing tide washing against some quiet, sandy shore,  she knew the last faint beat was not many beats away. She had always known that some people drowned, and now she silently accepted the knowledge that she was one of them.

Read Full Post »