Somewhere, Someone breathes an Iron Breath,
and Dreams wither on the vine.
I did not mean to stumble, I did not mean to fall.
I do not know if I need help back up,
I’m not sure know where I’ve Fallen from.
Someone, Somewhere, plucked a Purple rose,
just to hear its Crystal Tears.
Dead and withered lies the Dreamvine,
its Hopes replaced with Fears.
I cried Purple Petals,
lost in Smoke and Ice.
Somewhere, someone reached out
and nurtured a tiny Dream-seed….
Purple Petals fall amid Crystal Tears,
struggling to be heard through Smoke and Ice.
The next time I stumble, I stop to look.
My step has caught on the withered Dream-vine.
I cry over its lost Hopes,
and my tears fall Silent and Purple upon its roots.
The Silence drowns out the Iron Breath of a cold world and,
slowly, a Dream blossoms.
My footsteps echo Crystal Notes as,
Hope-full, I skip away.
I look about to see only cold-eyed
Hard-hearted people all around,
Wearing the faces of my friends.
I handed someone Love
All wrapped up in Magic and Wonder…
and now it sits forgotten on a shelf.
Someone asked me to make it all Sparkle,
so I sprinkled them with Faerie Dust,
And then they sneezed and asked me for a tissue.
It seems to me that it wasn’t always like this….
But then, where did it all go?
I’m reaching out…
Trying to find a connection.
Did I just get lost?
Or did everyone else go away?
I’m calling for help …
(I hope it’s the right number)
Please pick up..
(Is there never anyone at home?)
Why won’t anybody Answer?
Don’t you know that the call
from my world to yours
is more and more
Long Distance every day?
…and I am running out of Change.
I walk silently
though my steps are music.
I feel the imensity
of the Univese that bore me,
though it exists complete within me.
I stand with Trees that remember my birth,
Though it was I who planted their seeds.
I am ever-young and ever-old
I am ageless and of the Ages.
As I am, I was, and I shall ever be.
I am like nothing else
and yet I am at One with Everything.
I am an Elf.
The hours of the day are not enough, in this world, to love. Always are we too busy, or too distracted to give the kind of love we ought. I promised my love I would love him Forever, and Forever I meant. And so I found a better place.
There is a place, for me and my love, where we might love as we were meant to: wholly. It is a wooded place, on the edge of Forever, where time never runs short. There, I can dance with my love beneath a gentle sky, or lie beneath fragrant trees, without distraction. There, I might lie and listen to the sound of gentle music; the music which is the song of our souls, content.
Long after I have, in this world, turned to dust, I might still be found. I will still be dancing with my love there, in a Forest on the Edge of Forever. I know this, for even now, I hear the echo of lovers long past, still loving in this special place. Some other Lovers, seeking refuge from a world not kind to love, might wander into our Forest in ages to come, and they will, in turn, hear our echoes. The distant music of our souls will drift upon the wind to reach them, and help them remember that here, Love really is a forever thing.
And so, when I know the world must take my love from me, I smile, and I am not sad. I hold him close, and whisper to him that I will be waiting, there in that Forest on the edge of Forever, and loving him while he is away. When he is ready, he will meet me there. It is not far. The door is here, in your heart. The key is a love that needs a longer forever than you can find in this world. A love that needs a place where Forever is really just that.
But no more.
I sent my wishes into the wind,
They sparkled in the light of the sun –
Faerie dust of old.
I filled each wish with Hope,
It seemed I had so much to share;
And I smiled as they drifted away.
It was by the light of the moon that I came to see
That each wish I once thought Hope-Full,
Were they always so?
And where I once saw the glitter of faerie dust,
Now soot and ash,
Heavy and dull upon a cold wind.
By the light of your smile, once,
By the light of your smile, once,
Wishes glittered and sparkled.
Now, light shows omny truth.
I think I always knew that Truth
Was the color of ash.
As now, for a moment,
Even ash seems to sparkle through tears.
But tears soak in,
It all appears even duller than before.
I wished once.
And I know that, somewhere, someone laughs still.
For that laugh reaches me.
Not with any of its Warmth or Light,
But only as a cold, silent wind
Reaching down to stir the soot and ash
Left behind to remind me of a time when I still believed
That wishes sparkled in the sun.
Gone forever are the days of wonder. Gone forever are the nights dancing beneath the moon to the songs of a soul content. All that is left are countless empty hours on this dusty and forgotten shelf.
She looked around her bleak and lonely surroundings, and wondered what had happened to her kingdom. She wondered of her friends there, and of the Prince who had once made her smile. She wondered if they laughed and danced still, and if she had been missed. She reached up her hand gently to touch her forehead, feeling for the crown that she had once wore, and felt nothing. As her hand fell away it left a smudge upon her brow – dust from the lonely shelf that was her home.
She thought to sleep again, but knew that sleep would bring only empty dreams, and not the kingdom she longed for. And so she huddled, small and alone, into the darkness of her shelf. She wrapped lonely arms around herself and mourned what she would not again know. She cried silent tears and knew that she could never again be content with this dusty and forgotten corner. And she felt her patchwork heart break to know that no prince would ever find her here, on a lonely shelf that had never known the warmth or comfort of the sun.
I “dream” often of a time that was wilder than this. Greener. When the Wilds and the Woods were not so tame. About running through a Forest that never realized I was not just another part of it, for in many ways I was. I dream of Tales told by trees. Of Telling my own. I dream of music woven of light. The soft, silvery notes of Starlight; the lower, whispery notes of Moonlight; the lively, warm notes of Firelight. The rhythm was kept by the spaces of darkness in between. I remember Dancing to this music, and to the music that was a natural part of the world around us. I remember the Dancing was Magick, and often wove a music of its own. I remember a feeling of Peace that was so a part of this life. I remember a Sadness, but not why. Endings, I suppose. I remember the Dance for that. I long for this time, and often dream away days thinking of it. It shadows my steps, for though I walk in this world physically, my heart is there. It is the place my soul calls home.