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Posts Tagged ‘trust’

I closed my eyes and visions formed,

Just like I slumbered in a dream.

The things I saw were all surreal,

It had me drifting so serene.

 

The magic that I thought had gone,

Had somehow found its way again.

The child that had been lost inside,

Within this dream had come to play.

 

In the moon light glow I spied a form,

With silken wings so fine.

It danced upon the golden dunes,

Beside the ocean deep and wide.

 

As quickly as the vision came,

So it had faded into night.

I knew it would come back again,

Another day it would take flight.

 

So I made a wish upon a star,

That glistened in the velvet sky.

A thought I had which came and went,

Within a tear drop in my eye.

 

Now I wait for dreams to be,

For faded hopes to shine once more.

The past is gone the future’s here,

A child waits near life’s open door.

 

 

 

 

Faeries

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What is it that a child sees within their mind? What dreams will come true, unfolding then drifting like the mists of time as they traverse the known and the unknown realms that exist within the deepest reaches of time and space? Could the innocence of a child be all that was needed to open the door to that mystical, magical place that rides parallel to that which we know? Is this the place through which paper boats laden with thoughts and wishes shall sail, going far beyond the horizon to the nether reaches of the widest oceans before returning, ragged, but intact all the same, carrying the answers to the questions that we have sent?

As the small boy stood with his arm outstretched, he waved his hand as if it held a mighty sword, yet within his steely grip was a simple pen and in his other hand was a single piece of parched white paper upon which he had scrawled but a few carefully chosen words. The sun shone brightly bathing him in its soft yellow glow as it held fast for the last part of the day, and the stiff breeze that blew from across the dark blue ocean stung his skin as it carried the salt filled air. His coat battered against his leg like a loose tent flap in a storm, with a hollow, yet sharp sound like that of a cracking whip. He stared across the ocean into the distant unknown and there, just above the horizon, the vapours of a large dark cloud twisted and turned into shape. His eye in tune with a wild imagination saw large dragon form, bathed in the red glow of the sun, and from its mouth spewed forth the electric blue fire of lightning and the rolling roar of thunder that accompanied it carried across the ocean to where he stood in awe. So much never did cease to amaze him, and so often he would stand alone and ponder the intricacies of life and death.

Elsewhere, a small girl huddled in the solitude of The Garden of Life. The soft pink bows that tied her long dark hair and the pink runners with spangled sparkly pink laces gave only a little away of who she really was. She watched as the glow of the dragonfly and butterfly ornaments that adorned her garden bed changed colour before her ever wondering eyes like a rainbow light show. Some time ago she fell from the Tree, bruised and battered from the blows that life had dealt her and it was here that she landed, here that she felt safe and secure in a place full of blissful moments that would sustain her when no other moment could. It was warm like a soft feather doona, and on the darkest of nights with a clear sky, she could count the millions of stars that shone from above, carrying her back for just a moment to where she would grab a fleeting glimpse of her past. Long gone were the memories that had filled her days with joy and laughter, replaced by the careful, considered thoughts and words that now filled her life. Yet she was gaining greater courage with each passing day and week, and although she did not realise it yet, the time would come once more where the magic of being a child would carry her away.

He was small, but he was strong, with his words belying the true self that he had become, and as the sun bade him farewell for another day, so the stars began to twinkle in the blackness of the night, greeting him like a million children all wanting to share in the wonders his words would bring. He turned his back to the dragon in the distant sky that had faded like so many of his childish dreams, and he walked slowly along the path that wound its way through the undulating sand dunes, marked by the finger print lines of the wind. The ripples in the sand twisting and weaving like a snake from a story he once knew, ready to pounce and take him if it so chose. No longer did the stiff winds batter his tiny body, instead replaced by a soft breeze that now carried him in a drifting state as though his tiny feet did not touch the ground. Onward he went, into the Magic Forest, where fireflies danced like tiny candles suspended from an invisible string, their light painting him in an eerie glow as they went about their business. Faeries darted here and there, every now and again coming in for an inquisitive look, before disappearing once more, visible to only those that believed in their existence, and he certainly believed they were real.

With his long white hair and blue jacket he was a sight to behold as he bounded here and there, with the exuberance of the imaginative child that he was. Often he would pause and turn quickly as he tried to spy some cheeky faerie as it played hide and seek with him, giving a little giggle each time he succeeded in catching a glimpse. “Hello,” he called as he stood in the clearing, but all that returned was an echo from the hidden places deep within the forest. He called again, this time louder with more purpose, at the same time with a saddening desperation that his friend for whom he searched may hear his cry. Again it was only his echo that responded, with the fading repeat as it bounced from tree to tree. He had sailed many paper boats and for fleeting moments she had shown herself, but like a ghost on a calm dark night, she would appear and then fade to be lost once more, never managing to grasp her dreams for much longer than she felt safe. He looked mournfully around, yet here and now in the stillness of the forest he knew that she may not come again, but he could only believe.

As the stars sparkled overhead, through the clear roof of her garden, she looked to find just one that may come to life and smile ever brightly upon her. Ever so carefully she climbed to her feet, stretching her weary body and offering a tiny yawn before sliding the door to her Garden open.  She peered out into the dark distance with all the unknowns obscured by the shadows cast, yet she felt compelled to take another step beyond the comfort and safety she had found. She had been stirred by a soft familiar sound which had now faded into the hum that filled her head and in the darkness she had felt drawn to some far off place, but still a part of her was tied to where she had been hiding. In the starlight, an old metal swing glistened, smudged with the brown rust of time, and it creaked as it moved ever so slightly in the breeze as if calling her to sit once more, encouraging her to break the bonds that had restrained her for so long now. As she stepped through the doorway, she let her fingers slip free from her hold on the last piece of what had protected her, and at the same time she let her mind drift almost becoming numb until she found herself sitting alone upon the wrought iron etched seat of the swing.

She felt a calmness wash over her, and as she looked at the scars carried by the nearby statue, so she saw herself, recovering from what she had endured and this put her even more at ease because it was a sign of what could be where there once was no hope. As she sat in contemplation, the last chirping of the small birds that filled her garden could be heard emanating from the nearby bushes in which they had made their homes, and it was as if she understood the stories they were telling of what the day had delivered for them. With the calmness that surrounded her, she began to drift back into that childlike state in which her memories had begun to stir once more, and she began to wonder now if it could ever be the same again. She could only believe, but she did not want to be dashed upon some rocky shore, never to be found, so she would be cautious and only time would tell what was to be.

Of all the things that he had seen and known, there was no one thing that stood out more in his imagination than any other, and as he stood in the opening of the magic forest, he gazed all around. The many dreams, the many tales came flooding back into his mind like a giant picture show that played his life like one big fairy tale. He was mesmerised by it all and the journey that he and his small friend had taken before she disappeared. They had sought out courage and strength, truth and believing and with this they had conquered the darkness and set alight the candle of life that still burned strong. They had seen the best and the worst that the world had to offer, but they had never once given up, and the Magic Forest stood as a testament to who they had become. As he looked, he could see the twinkling of the first star with all its magic and wonder, and nearby the tiny dragonflies and butterflies that flitted from flower to flower in the soft dusk light, each with its own purpose, each with its own meaning in the cobweb that life had woven magically for them.

As the last ray of the sun burst from beyond the horizon, it reached out like a finger pointing, and it reflected from the distant ivory tower, sending a glint of light as a reminder that some thing’s still remained and that only with time and patience would they be tamed. The rainbow colours that had adorned it had been replaced once again by the stark white paint of before, yet he hoped that his tiny friend would see beneath that. He hoped she would remember what it had become and the adventure that had unfolded on a bright summer’s day a long while ago when she had been rescued from its upper most confines.

He heard a sound, and as he turned he saw a fox dancing in the nearby wheat field, as if chasing some imaginary child as is leapt here and there. As he watched the fox, he remembered a tale from his past and although he could see the fox he wondered if like his friend it was truly there or just vision from that parallel world which may or may not exist alongside our own. He turned his gaze looking once more deep into the night sky with all the stars that now shone like tiny diamonds, and then to the deeper colours of space that made this canvas upon which they were laid even more wondrous. A shooting star raced across the sky, burning bright then fading, and as it did he cast his wish before it disappeared into the distance behind the tall wide silhouette of the Friendship Tree. If he did not know better, he would have imagined that it had landed within the Tree itself but then that was the magic of his simple imagination.

Sitting quietly on the metal swing, the small girl felt the breeze of a butterfly kiss upon her cheek, and as she did so she closed her eyes to dream. Ever so slowly the old metal swing began to squeak as she was rocked back and forth. The sound was reminiscent of the old see saw on which she had found herself not too long ago, and as she opened her eyes, the soft light of the rising moon lit up her smile and for just a moment she thought she saw the silhouette of a dragonfly she had once known. She closed her eyes once again and in a moment a shadow flickered upon her eyelids, tempting her to open them once more. As she slowly opened her eyes, she sat aghast at the ethereal form of the small boy that wandered before her, side to side as if searching for something he had lost, yet he did not see her. He was calling for her, and even as she called back, he could not hear. He came close to where she sat on the swing and with her tiny fingers she stretched to touch him, calling his name as the swing made its forward motion, but as she did, so he disappeared. This left her with a lost and empty feeling as though the future had come then gone in the instant that was time as she had come to know it.

In the distance a voice called softly and she placed her feet on the ground stopping the swing in mid motion, and as she listened intently the familiar call drew her from the darkness of where she had been into the eerie glow of the moon. At the same time the small boy also heard a familiar voice and as he watched, a soft light began the radiate from the Tree in the distance. The fox stopped what it was doing, then turned and watched as the smile on the face of the small boy grew ever wider before it too was drawn forward, cautiously moving to where the Tree stood bold and strong. The small girl had let go of all that had held her, abandoned all the fear that had so consumed her, and as she ran, the laces on her pink runners danced like octopus tentacles to a silent tune. As she came closer to the tree, she recognised the shape that was her friend on the path that wound from the forest in the other direction and she called, as did he. They both stopped at the bottom of the tree, puffing and panting.

“Where have…….” She stopped him before he could say another word and she explained as best she could. “I tried, and I knew that everything would be alright, but at the same time I just could not see as clearly as I usually do.” He wanted to say something but she was so full of words and after all his paper boats he was glad to just let her speak. “I had forgotten it all, everything that I had learnt, all the simple things you had shown me, and worst of all I had become lost in my own little world, drowning in everything that had overcome me.”

He needed not say anything in return, because he understood and all that mattered was that she was back. A soft mist began to drift across the valley floor like the white foam on the incoming ocean tide. It tickled their feet as it rolled across their shoes, drifting in tiny wisps of vapour. The fox stood there, first raising one paw, then replacing it before raising another in astonishment as the mist wrapped itself around it. The two friends climbed into the tree, and lifted the fox up with them, and as the mist filled the valley floor, all around them looked like the ocean. In the pale moonlight, the fox lay its head upon the wide branch and fell asleep, whilst the two friends talked in endless conversation, making up for the time that they had not spoken over the long last while. This was not the end, nor was it the beginning. It was where they were now, it was where the journey they were on had placed them and they knew that there were more adventures, more wonders to be seen, greater lessons to be learned. Today there would be no magic, no more than the simple words written on this page, the magic of words on their own. For now they were just two friends sitting in a tree, filling the Book Of Dreams with words that told of something unique, but at the same time something that others would one day embrace and find of their own as well.

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All the wonders of the forest unfolded before the small boys eyes, as the sun set slowly on the last day of the year. The birch trees, tall and slender, with their white paper bark sat motionless, bathed in the warm yellow glow at the end of the day. Nearby tiny birds could be heard singing their last joyful tunes in the fading light as if saying good night to one another after a long day, tucking themselves into their nests for the evening. The whistling hum of cicadas began to fill the air as the warmth of the day was replaced by the chill that a clear night sky would bring. The small boy pulled his blue jacket around himself, and ran his tiny fingers through his long white hair, flicking it back from where it had fallen across his soft blue eyes. His tiny fingers carefully fastened the golden buttons so that he could keep the cold away from his small body.

He lay on his back, with the tall grass and soft yellow daisies gently wrapping around him, and as he stared deep into the blue sky above, he could only begin to imagine all the wonders he would see as a hundred billion stars unfolded before him when night finally took hold. Staring into the sky, his view was framed by the green heart shaped leaves that melded into the blue as it grew deeper in tone. Strange sounds could be heard in the distant reaches of the forest and in his imagination he formed creatures with large ears and noses, and fur that was long and white, with large clawed paws that left foreboding footprints where ever they went. That they even existed was highly unlikely in anywhere but his mind, but then that was what young boys did, especially this one. All his thoughts were intermingled with just a touch of reality then told in stories bold and full of fantasy, yet with the vigor of a seasoned storyteller.

He would often smile to himself as he watched the look of amazement on his friend’s face as he recounted journeys that had only ever been taken in dreams, yet were always so much fun to share. “Shhh, listen and you can hear them stir,” he would say as the breeze opportunistically rustled a nearby bush. “I think the faeries are here to play. Don’t turn now, but there it one just over your shoulder.” The smiles would form and then without even daring to turn she would ask. “Tell me what it looks like?” He would pause, then with a cursory glance he would begin. “Well she is not much bigger than my hand, and she is wearing satin and lace, in rainbow colors, with her hair tied in a single pony tail. Her wings are glistening in the sun, and her eyes are like magic and wonder rolled into one, ready to cast a spell on any that she may see fit to do so.” “Go on,” his friend would ask as he paused in thought. “There is nothing more I can tell you.” He would say as he smiled in return.

Today, in this moment he was on his own, and his thoughts and imaginings were all his to have and he could just believe without any further explanation. In the forest the shadows of the trees had begun to reach out, stretching like tiny fingers over the undulating fields that lay between him and the Tree, and as the light grew dimmer, so the shadows faded into the darkness that had gradually taken over. Within the forest, the glow of tiny firefly lanterns began to illuminate the trees and the forest floor, with a gentle breeze making them sway, with their painted light bringing the forest to eerie life.  His eyes followed the path as it wove its way to where it divided into two, and in the fading light the path to the left disappeared into the mist and the ruins that lay beyond. At times like this, he would just sit and listen, with ears pricked, to the faint sounds of children laughing, and the reassuring voice of the old man that protected them all. So often he wished to join them, but he knew his place was here keeping the Tree alive with his words, and so it was he remained.

Dew drops hung with a delicate grip from the tiny tendrils of the small ferns that dotted the forest floor, sparkling in the starlight like tiny diamonds. Ever so slowly the forest began to come to life as the creatures stirred from their daytime slumber, stretching and yawning as they wiped the faerie sleep dust from their eyes. As he stood and turned his back on the forest, the glow cast his shadow long, and he raised his arm so that his shadow touched the very base of the Tree. He walked from the twisted, knotted entrance of trees with their dangling branches flicking against his hair, and as he stepped into the wheat field he could see the ghostly forms of children that had long ago disappeared from his memory. They ran and played, laughing with echoed cries as if taunting him to bring them to life once more with the words of dreams, but he wondered could it ever be again. Time had seen them vanish and no matter how hard he tried, he could not find them, although he was sure of where to look.

He stood quietly with a tiny tear welling in his eye, and he thought about the many paper boats so intricately folded and so carefully set upon the sea of life in search of answers, in hope of words to be returned. As he watched the children laughing, the tear lost its steely grip and fell from his eye, and as it did it spun and twisted and a small blue dragonfly formed, coming to life, hovering and watching them play just as he did. The children paused for a moment and looked in his direction, and he thought once more before some simple words formed in his mind.

 

The simple innocence of a child at play,

Dancing upon this sacred earth.

Holding on to all their dreams,

Carried with them to death from birth.

 

Long lost laughter and words so bright,

From imaginations drifting with the tide.

Floating aimlessly on the sea of life,

Waiting all so patiently to find.

 

If only to grasp to truly glimpse,

For real the words so often sought.

Laid out upon the paper fine,

The many things a mind has thought.

 

To find the child inside once more,

Without a care for all to see.

The time I know will one day come,

When all we know will come to be.

 

As quickly as the words came, so they faded from his mind, and as they did the ghostly shapes that played before him faded into the darkness with only whisperings as they went. Left behind were the dancing lights of three fireflies that spiraled into the dark sky above, taking their place amongst the many stars that flickered there. The dragonfly was all that now remained, his only friend, and he reflected on all that had become. Together they would walk the path that wound its way to the Friendship Tree, standing tall and wide in the sparkling starlight with a soft glow radiating from within its branches. They stopped midway along the path and the small boy turned his gaze skyward, with the breeze gently tapping his coat tails as he stood admiring the plethora of stars that spread from horizon to horizon. From beyond the forest he could now hear the sound of the ocean as it rolled like thunder, before crashing like the sound of summer rain on an old tin roof as it tumbled the many pebbles on the shore. It was a peaceful sound and it added to the atmosphere of the night as he continued to look skywards at the smudges of red, pink and blue, that were intermingled with stars, the vast unknown that lay unexplored, except within his imagination.

As his long white hair began to toss in the breeze, he let his thoughts take him into the sky and for a moment he imagined the big blue ball that would be seen from the deep dark reaches of space, and he wondered if that was what the stars saw also and if that was why they always smiled. A shooting star cast itself across the sky, with a bright burst of electric blue light as it ended its journey. He held onto the thought, a wish to be made at another time, and then he continued on his way. As he walked, he placed his hands into his deep coat pockets, with his tiny fingers fumbling desperately, but he only managed to find a small piece of what he had searched for, leaving it hidden for later on. The Friendship Tree was looking old and the rough bark that wrapped itself around the trunk was showing signs of dying. He ran his fingers across it and it spoke to him of the many stories protected within, the many days of children playing, and now the endless days of silence that it endured.

He climbed into the Tree and he sat quietly, almost mesmerized by the mobiles that spun in the soft lantern glow. The dragonflies sparkled and spun as though suspended on a fine gossamer thread. Their words echoed out for all to hear, with the rainbow colors reflecting off their wings. Nearby, hung the worn and ragged butterflies, spinning momentarily then stopping, almost lifeless. The words they held were truly wonderful, but they had become tired, jaded, and even as he looked on they seemed to age before his tiny tear filled eyes. He reached into his coat pocket once more, and in his tiny hands he held his last piece of magic. He looked carefully at it, then as he cast it upon the butterflies he also made his wish. The butterflies came to life and began to dance on the breeze, but he knew this could not last, he knew it needed more. He sat in the silence, with only the sound of his heart beat and shallow breath to be heard. Then a whisper came. He missed it at first, but then he heard it once more and a voice told him that he could not stop trying and that one last paper boat with words so simple must be set upon the sea to sail. He carefully lifted the dragonfly from where it sat on his shoulder and he placed it near the lantern so it’s shadow fell across the Book Of Dreams.

He climbed down from the Tree, falling and tumbling the last bit as he could not contain his enthusiasm, rolling to his feet before running along he path. His tiny legs carried him faster than he had ever run before, leaping over tall tufts of grass, weaving through the forest with the faeries watching on in wonder, then the arduous final climb to the cliff top overlooking the ocean with its cold deep blue in the darkness of the night. He paused to catch his breath, before sliding down the dune to the beach below. Seagulls called as they flew overhead, searching in the night as if they had lost something. He sat on the pebbles and he folded the stark white paper meticulously, so that it formed a paper boat. He took out a pen and upon it he simply wrote, ‘please come back.’ He walked to the waters edge and he carefully placed it upon the shimmering surface, guiding it on its way in hope that it would be found. As he stepped back he watched and waited, then sat amongst the shells and seaweed watching some more. ‘The stars are sparkling all so brightly tonight,’ he thought to himself as he continued to watch his paper boat sailing away. Many had gone, and few returned, though he always believed that they were seen and that the words they carried made a difference for someone, somewhere.

He stood and taking up a small stick that lay nearby he drew a picture in the sand of a tree with a dragonfly hovering in mid air, and below it he wrote.

 

In friendship I trust,

With words I grow strong,

The thoughts of a child,

Shared with everyone.

 

Decorated with shells, pebbles and colored seaweed, the image was as if it were alive and he dreamed that it could seen by all the tiny eyes sparkling from the sky above. As he left the beach and headed back to the Tree, he turned and caught a last glimpse of the paper boat as it sailed on and he wondered, he hoped and he dreamed of what would one day be, of the butterflies that may live to spin their magic, and of a friend that would climb into the Tree once more to share her words.

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The small girl sat quietly on the seat of the old timber swing, suspended from the strong low branch of the tree she would often climb with her friend. She hummed a tune as she waited patiently, with her ragged pink bows dangling from her ponytails, and her pink overalls slightly worn from the adventures she had been on. “Hum di hum di hum,” she hummed as she kicked her tiny feet so that the toes scuffed along grass below her. Every now and then she looked around inquisitively, as if expecting someone to show up, but the silence was matched only by her loneliness, and the echo it left was a hollow emptiness. Dangling from a branch nearby hung some tiny butterflies, sitting lifeless, suspended carefully, but nothing much more, and only seen by a few curious eyes. “I wish I could fly,” she whispered as she gave a gentle kick, but then she did not have as much strength as she used to and it hurt somewhat when she moved suddenly. She sobbed quietly as she sat there and thought about the adventures she wished she could go on once more, carried away to distant places where her weightless form would drift and sway.

As the tiny tears rolled down her cheeks, she wiped them away and gave a sniffle as elegantly as any small girl could, and as she sat there a single tear fell unguarded, and as it tumbled and turned a tiny dragonfly appeared as if brought on by a wish or a thought. It hovered unseen behind her ever so quietly, as if it too were hung by a single thread. She had stopped crying and was almost at the point of climbing down and giving up, when a tiny breeze blew, pushing her forward ever so slightly. The breeze stopped and she swung backwards before the breeze blew once more, pushing her forward again, ever further.

With a whoosh past her ear the dragonfly now hovered before her so she could see it, and as she swung forward once more she watched as its tiny wings began to beat rapidly, sending a breeze in her direction pushing her backwards once more. Gradually she swung further and higher, smiling ever wider as the rush of wind now filtered through her hair, and as she swung forward once more she laid her head back, as if to look at the sky only to see a small boy smiling from the branch above her. She giggled and he shouted, “close your eyes and make a wish,” which she did without hesitation, and as he watched on he laughed and at the same time he sprinkled some magic from the pocket of his blue jacket.

“Are you ready?” he cried at the top of his voice. “Yes I am,” she called back as she swung higher and farther still, giggling with the gay abandonment that she had long ago lost. “I hope you are wishing?” he questioned loudly, and as soon as she nodded her response a coolness enveloped her and she was carried away to where she found herself floating aimlessly in the cool clear water that had been like a second home to her. Immersed in the salty liquid, she felt all her cares wash away as if she were in a hypnotic trance, a dream state that she had longed to experience once more. She swayed in the gentle wash of the ocean like a child within a womb, and all around her the creatures she saw brought a long forgotten ‘wow’ to her once cracked, dry lips. It had been so long since she had been able to enjoy the simple pleasures that being under water afforded, and even longer since she had felt the freedom that it gave her.

She kicked her tiny feet and glided effortless through the water, cutting a path through schools of brightly colored fish that seemed to smile in her direction before following her on the adventure. Her body twisted and turned as she swam, free like a creature of the sea. She wove her way through the tall sea weed forests that were intermingled with large cuttlefish that randomly changed shape mimicking the surroundings, as if putting on a magic show for her, at the same time sending waves of color across their bodies like the pulsating light of a disco strobe or the most intricate kaleidoscope. She hovered as the largest came close, holding out a tentacle as if gesturing to touch, before shooting off in a teasing movement. She swam away once more, this time with her arms outstretched as though she was flying, then from the corner of her eye she spotted the shape of a large stingray as it came close as if emulating her movements. She smiled widely as it twisted and turned slowly, following her every move. It had the grace of an angel, and for a moment she imagined, she wondered, but then her thoughts shifted once more. Upon the sandy floor she spied a small blue shell glistening in the filtered light, and she picked it up and placed it in her pocket as a keepsake from this adventure.

She was truly in her element and this was surely her most favorite place, and of all the things she had dreamed, this was the one thing above all else that held such great importance, and at times you may think more important than life itself. After all, what is a life unless you can drift in the waters cool embrace. She was growing tired, but her journey was not yet complete, and something told her there was more, more than she could ever hope. Ahead in the stream of sunlight that punched through the surface of the water she could just make out a distinctive shape, one she knew but had only dreamed of. As it came close she realized that this was truly the one thing she had waited for, the one thing feared by most, but respected and sought after by her. It was the much maligned great white shark, with its grey to white body color and as powerful as any animal that existed, but to her it was like a puppy dog that would melt at her touch. It brushed close by as if it knew her, even understood her intentions and she felt as at ease as she had at any time in her life. She swam as one with this great creature, an experience that would be as great as any she had ever had. Her dreams had been realized and she was grateful for this day.

The light had faded to dark, and as it did so a strange feeling came over her. She woke to find herself sitting on the swing where she first started. He hair was slightly damp, and she could taste the salt on her lips. Surely it was not a dream, it was too real, and how refreshed she felt? She looked around once more and as she did she noticed a tiny dragonfly lying on the ground, barely alive, glimmering in the moon glow. She picked it up carefully and held it gently in her hand, and as it turned itself towards her it gave one last desperate flutter, before it died. She carefully tied it to the most wonderful piece of colored string and placed it hanging next to the butterfly mobiles where it now belonged and in the breeze it tapped them as if to keep them awake. She now looked further into the tree, but there was no sign of the small boy, and she wondered if he was real or just a part of the dream, if that is what she had. She wondered, and then she remembered, the shell. Her tiny fingers reached inside the pocket of her pink overalls, searching, fumbling frantically, and then her face lit up with a smile as she removed her hand and there within her tiny fingers she held the blue shell. She knew now that this was as real as she had wished it could be, and the small boy with all his magic had made it possible, but then he knew that all he had done was to give her the belief to live the dream that was all hers.

She climbed down from the swing and before she left she looked to the stars and she saw a twinkle in amongst them with an echoed laughter of a small boy. She smiled and whispered thank you, and although she could not see, he smiled in return knowing that he had made some difference once again, and that there was more magic where that had come from.

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“You never signed up for this,” she explained as she tried to make him understand the full extent of her predicament. He looked at her in a puzzled manner, and not knowing whether to nod or shake his head, he began to reply. “But I …..”. She stopped him and as the breeze tossed his long white hair, she paused for a moment, before she continued to explain. “I’ve been here before and it is not nice, as a matter of fact it is too much at times even for me to comprehend.” He listened to all she had to say, telling of a myriad of treatments and side affects, not to mention what the future may hold for her. The look on his face was one of sadness as all that she said began to sink in, but then for a moment he began to smile. She looked at him with her eyes all scrunched up, and an expression that in some way questioned how it was that he found the situation so funny or how it could be that he was happy. He knew what she was thinking, but then his outlook on life was always a positive one, where believing in yourself was so important, so he very quickly explained.

He looked in her direction and then he began to speak. “Did I ever tell you I was magic?” She looked at him and wondered, then she sat listening intently as he explained some more. “Do you know what magic is?” She nodded her head so that her pink bows bounced. “It is like pulling a rabbit from a hat, or making something disappear, isn’t it? I like magic.” He shrugged his shoulders and he continued. “Well, it is sort of but, that is more of an illusion than magic. You see magic is something more, it is believing when others may doubt, it is not an illusion, it is something special” He knew right now she was more confused by all that had happened to her and how it was she had come to be where she was once more. So in the fading light he began to weave his words. He told her stories full of hope, he painted pictures in her mind that only a crafted imagination could weave, and as he continued so his words became like air and water that would give her the strength to believe in herself. When he was done, she smiled and she understood that with the complexities that had filled her mind she would navigate what lay ahead and she would make the choices she needed for the right reasons.

She looked at the white haired boy as he sat staring into the distance in deep concentration, and then she posed a question that she wondered if he would ever be able to answer. “The future.” He broke from his thought and turned, “huh?” “The future, what does it hold for me?” His gaze turned towards the dark sky above, sprinkled with a million or more stars and he carefully pondered his answer before he explained. “I will be there one day, somewhere there,” pointing with the finger of his outstretched hand towards a coloured smudge across the darkness. “We will all be there and it will be amazing because we will get to look down on all these wonders that we can only dream of seeing now.” She heard him but then she still did not know. “What about me? What is my future?” He smiled as he looked at her once more, then he clarified his observations. “You will be there too, but not yet, not for a long time. I see that you have much to teach and much to learn with a lifetime to go before you that is yet to be fulfilled. She smiled again, almost relieved at what he had told her, and she felt more assured, more at ease than ever. “So do you believe?” He asked excitedly. She nodded, hesitantly at first but then with the confidence that made him smile.

She realised that as her friend  he felt no burden, he understood what it was that he had signed up for. As a matter of fact it had not been her choice, her request, but his because that was what true friendship was to him. He would offer his words, his encouragement so that she would remain strong, never to stop believing, and as she took this journey she would grow to know what it was that lay ahead for her. It would never be easy, but she would survive and her story, one day written, will tell a tale that was against all odds.
The stars will shine tonight, and every night to come, and each time she looks into the sky she will hear the laughter of the children that look down upon her sending their wishes her way.

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He stood overlooking the rolling valley in the soft evening light, with the Tree bathed in the glow of the sun’s golden rays. His long blue coat with its polished buttons flapped in the breeze, gently tapping on his legs like a small child seeking his attention, with the buttons making a tinkety tink. As he studied all that lay before him, he watched as the wheat field swayed like the surface of the ocean with an ever changing texture. He glanced in the direction of the Tree and as he looked closer he thought he saw with his tiny eyes a glint of light as it reflected from within the Tree, and as he concentrated harder he could hear the smallest sound of laughter echoing from within. ‘No, it can’t be,’ he thought to himself, but there it was again, ‘surely not?’ Excitedly he ran through the wheat field, nearly falling as his tiny legs almost lost all control as he leaped and bounded on his way, and when he finally stood at the bottom of the Tree, he waited and he listened intently. The laughter was still there, but it had become weaker, almost more distant as if fading into obscurity far from the deepest reaches of his imagination as if drifting away from where it had begun.

He climbed the Tree to where he would usually sit and once inside he gazed around, but there was not a single soul to be found, not a sign that anyone had been here in the last while. He bowed his head and he wondered, then as the breeze blew through the dangling green leaves he heard it once more. He turned then looked overhead and there he noticed the familiar sight of a mobile with the remnants of shattered butterflies suspended precariously from the fragile pieces of string. As it wavered in the light he saw one final in tact butterfly, the last one hung from a rainbow coloured string and as it span in the breeze so the softest laughter could be heard. He thought to a time not long ago and he remembered this one, the rescue one, the one that had sacrificed all to search for the small boy that had drowned in all his sorrow and self-pity, the one that told of the lengths to which friends will go for one another. He approached it cautiously, with the light reflecting like a kaleidoscope from its silken wings and as he did so it fell, and with an outstretched hand he grasped and held on tightly so that it would not disintegrate on the barren ground below as so many others had.

Held now tightly within his tiny palms, he could see that whilst it was the same one, there was now more. Its words told of misfortune and despair, joy and suffering and waiting for the joy once more, but how could he be so sure, was that the laughter mingled with a sadness? He thought long and hard, and then he climbed down from the Tree, planting his feet firmly on the desolate earth below with a tiny puff of dust as he landed. He stepped away from the canopy that shielded him, and as he stood there with the hum of the night echoing he looked deep into the night sky. He reached out and grasped a small piece of the delicate velvet that spanned the sky which in turn held the many stars of hope in his vision and then he clenched his fist and took a piece in his hand. He made a soft velvet bag and he placed the delicate butterfly within mingled with just a few stars for protection, and as he did it began to stir before he closed the bag tightly. In the distance the light radiated from the magic forest and the faintest sounds of the faeries and elves carried upon the breeze to where he stood, their songs drawing him towards them. He trod the path of fortune that he had travelled so often before and as he reached the forest he watched in wonder as the small ones danced and sprinkled their magic dust upon the ground around them. He watched in amazement as everywhere it landed tiny flowers grew, in pinks and reds and blue, and dragonflies flitted carefree here and there. ‘Was this life giving, did it really have the magic he had come to find?’ he thought to himself. He thought no more and he quickly gathered some of faerie dust and he placed it inside the black bag alongside the butterfly mobile and stars, and as he did so the butterfly began to stir to life with its delicate wings fanning slowly like the beat of a tiny heart, which brought a smile to his face.

His soft blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he stood looking out from where the forest met the wheat field once more, and he watched as a fox danced in the moon’s glow. He sat quietly, unseen, admiring the enthusiasm with which she moved, full of life, full of believing, not a care in the world. Then as he looked on a flash of light raced across the sky, exploding like a firework and sprinkling hundreds of tiny stars across the land and like little diamonds they sparkled here and there and he searched through the field gathering each and every one of them adding them to his magical collection. Everything inside the bag now glowed bright and strong and the energy it contained was stronger than any he had made before. All this time with his concentration so intense on his task, he did not see that the fox had stopped and was looking on with a smile on her face, because she understood who he was and what it was he was seeking. He had nearly filled the bag but he wanted more, so he looked to the sky and his favorite constellation of Orion where stars are born, and he reached deep into it with his mind. With his imagination he gathered up a handful of the brightest ones that would shine like only a candle could shine, and he placed them into the bag as well.

With his prize held firmly, he made his way back to the Tree and he climbed inside with the silence all around him. There was still no sign that any one had been there and he wondered if they ever would again, but then maybe there was still time? He went to the Book of Dreams and he tore out some of the blank pages it contained and placed them inside like tiny blank butterflies waiting to be filled with words, then he took a single piece and put it in his coat pocket. Before he closed the bag to protect all that it contained, he made a tiny dragonfly.

 

Believing in the one you are,

Thoughts that give you strength and hope,

Words that carry you away,

At times when you don’t think you’ll cope.

 

Laughing in the morning sun,

Crying in the midday rain,

Then smiling at the stars that shine,

Because like you they’ll shine again.

 

For each and every star that falls,

A wish awaits for you to make,

A dream come true in times to come,

With every little step you take.

 

The stars you hold within your hands,

Are gathered there for you to see,

So even in your darkest hours,

You will pull through it’s your destiny.

 

He finished and put this into the bag, and then he placed his hand into a hole in the solid trunk of the Tree, searching with his tiny fingers, and when he removed it he was holding a small candle, like the light of life to be shared, to glow when the darkness was at its worst, a reminder of all that life is and ever will be. His treasure was now complete, the magic was captured, and now he placed the bag where his friend would usually sit with her pen and paper in hand and then he turned, but before climbing down he made a wish. It was a wish he would not share, but a wish just the same, a wish upon the star that he had seen earlier and had waited to use. He climbed down from the Tree with its rough-hewn bark and as he stood there, all was silent. The forest was asleep and the fox was gone, but as he always knew, the stars still shined, they would always shine, they would always smile and their laughter would be heard by all those that believed. He knew his friend believed just as he did, and he only hoped that his gift could give her the strength that his words had so often given before. Only time would tell, but like before he truly believed and he would never let any other thought cross into the enquiring mind of the child she was, and that one day she would realise her wildest dreams.

He sat now by the ocean blue, with his bare feet resting in the cool waters as if drawing from the magic that it offered. He took the piece of paper from his jacket pocket and he folded it carefully into the most wonderful of paper boats, and then he added some words of hope, of believing. In the moonlight, he watched as it set sail as so many had before in search of a dream. He had sprinkled this with some of his magic, yes his. He thought he was magic, no, he knew he was magic and his words would always be like air and water, they would always speak of all the positive things that life has to offer and they were there for all those less fortunate than he, all those that needed a helping hand. That was who he was and always would be and his happiness was found in the happiness that he gave to others, the most wonderful of gifts that costs nothing but a simple smile. He would wait here until this paper boat returned and he would hope that his friend would find the gift he left for her. Now as he sat quietly, the stars smiled down upon him and he smiled back, and the colours of the Milky Way glowed in reds and pinks, with just a touch of cobalt blue smudged across, intermingled amongst the stars. He laughed, and they laughed to. Yes life was a wonderful thing.

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‘It is so dark and cold,’ he thought to himself as he sat quietly with his mind drifting with the tide of thoughts that now filled it. He had watched as life had changed once more, and with sadness he had stepped closer to the precipice than ever before then glanced at the future and all that it held.

As the small girl climbed down from the nearby branch and planted her feet firmly on the barren ground, she glanced back for what seemed like one last time, then turned and walked quietly away. As she disappeared into the distance, he wondered and he hoped with all hope that one day people would understand. He remembered a day that now seems like a lifetime away, when by chance two people with the child inside met and spoke about all the things that they knew. He remembered how he had told her about his one true love, and she about hers, and how at that point a friendship was formed, based on the trust and integrity that true friendships were formed. He remembered how strange it was that in all his life he had never had a true friend, not one that truly wanted to understand and accept him for all his good and bad, without judgment, and that he had found that at last.

Now, in the cold light of day as the sun began to set, he wondered what would truly become, and as he looked around he saw that the leaves of the tree in which he sat alone were now covered in letters, and as they fell, so another grew just as quickly in its place. The leaves carpeted the ground below and as they did they formed words and then tales, tales that reminded him of the adventures he had taken, the imaginings that he had seen, the wonders that had transformed from his tiny hands. He was unsure of what he should do now, and for a moment he thought he could climb down from the Tree as well, but then it would die, and long ago he swore an oath to himself that he would be the keeper of the tree, to never let it wither and fade like so many trees he had seen before.

He looked out from the tree at all the beauty that existed, with the fields of flowing flowers, the rolling hills, the magic forest that was truly magic and the ocean so blue. It was there he spied an old man standing on a distant shore, with a tiny paper boat that had been folded with all the precision of a craftsman, held tightly in his hands. The water lapped gently at the old mans feet, and he stood quietly as if it were giving him the life that sustained him and he stood for ages and stared across the calm clear waters, with their shades of blue. He looked at the paper boat as he held it in his frail fingers, and he smiled the smallest of smiles as he took out a pen and upon it he wrote.

 

 

I came into this world,

A path to take unknown,

And as the journey it unfolded,

I feel that I have grown.

 

Wiser for the things I’ve seen,

The people that I knew,

The choices that I make in life,

In everything I do.

 

The lessons that I’ve learned,

The things that I have taught,

The dragonflies that twist and turn,

Which in my mind I caught.

 

Regrets I’ve only one,

And tis I shall only know,

And as I pass from this short life,

With me then it shall go.

 

But for now I ask of you,

As you read these very words,

Believe in all I have to say,

No greater truth will you of heard.

 

Sometimes what is unique,

Will never be explained,

Because it is not known before,

Not now or ever again.

 

That doesn’t mean that it can’t be,

Or ever be again,

I hope one day that you will find,

Yourself a very trusted friend.

 

 

The old man bent over carefully, feeling the aches and pains of age, then with a little push, he guided the paper boat and watched with hesitation as it was carried out to sea on the gentlest of breezes. Just as the vision began to fade, the small boy caught a glimpse of the old man as he turned, and there he saw a single tear sparkling like a diamond in the corner of his eye.

 

He knew the vision he saw was as a glimpse of what the future may hold, and yet he did not see himself as old, but the eternal child. It was just that others saw him old with their clouded eyes, and the fears that did not let them dream. His small body harbored many fears, but he had made a promise to himself that he would never be consumed by them, or let them consume the minds of others. He was little, but he was strong, and he would continue to be like air and water to the tree, so that one day others may know what he knew within his heart of hearts. He would share his tale with all that chose to listen, and he would open their minds, but would they truly believe what he had come to know.

 

As he sat and thought, with the stars all now smiling wildly in the sky above, he realized that it no longer mattered what others knew or believed, and that all that was important was that he knew it to be and that he understood what true friendship was. He felt sad that no other could think so clearly, and he prayed that with time his words would enlighten many, and until that day you will just have to take his word for it.

 

A Thought.

A true wise man is not a person who knows everything, but instead one who sees with an open mind and each day comes to understand more so that he can grow wiser still.

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