… And Sing To Me
“There is magic in the hearts of people, a magic by the name
of hope and compassion. And in the darkest moments, this magic is the only
light we have.”
~Author Unknown So Far
i.
In dreams, wild
untamed thoughts can take wing and soar into the depths of the imagination,
creating mysterious worlds where the lines between the real and the unreal are
often obscured. Truths and fictions weave as one thread to create luminous
memories. The ancient Celts were said to believe that there are thin places
that not only transcend the senses, but transcend the boundaries of time and
space. It is a realm of infinite possibilities. Who is to say they are
mistaken? Fantasy is like thousands of flickering candle flames set in the dark
like stars. Most of the flames were unremarkable; they sputtered and were
swallowed by the darkness in quick succession. But every so often there would
be a flame that was so full of magic that burns brighter than the rest. The
darkness retreated from its terrible glow, and the flames around it burned all
the brighter. And even if the bright flame dies out, oh how brightly it burned!
This is how it began …
ii.
The scent of pine
trees fills the air. On an icy evening in December, snow fell from the sky and
caressed the earth with a glow that seemed to come from angels. There are no
other people for miles around, and the forest lays silent except for the soft
sound of a gentle wind caressing the trees. It whispered melodies in a language
to ancient to fully understand. If you close your eyes you can drift away from
the industry and hardships of modern life and return to a simpler primal time,
a time when we were one with the boundless forest. Leafless trees trembled and
concealed sparrows arose with circling beauty.
Eli was cold.
Terribly cold. Breath steams the air as his feet crunch on the ground. He
stopped and looked at his red and numb hands as he raised them toward his face.
Skin seemed to flake from shaking fingers before they were shoved deep into
jacket pockets. He wrapped his narrow fingers tightly around a cracked compass,
his last remaining tether to a recognizable world.
A cool breeze
gently brushed across his reddening face. Eli couldn’t bring to mind much of
this time outside the forest well enough to say what exactly he was thinking
about. “Why was I out here at all?” But with or without knowing the reason,
there he was at the mouth of the forest. He stopped moving and looked up to the
grey sky; it had started to snow again, sending zillions of crystalline flakes
down to Earth. With each gust of wind the trees danced in tune with the breeze.
It seemed as though the trees and the forest itself was breathing.
Whether it was
that or something else, Eli was drawn into the woods.
The forest pulled
him in.
iii.
Eli awoke to a
feeling that could only relate to vertigo. He felt lost. Fear was there, of
that he was certain, but it took an immediate backseat to his own captivation
and reckless infatuation with the world around him. His eyes were open; being
sure they would not close again.
He arose from a
stone table which was standing alone in the heart of the woods. It was in a
pleasant clearing. Not too large; nor too small, and the surrounding trees were
a pleasant and greenish green under their snowy veneer. Turning around it was
surprising to notice that the table had no snow on the top of it. Now seeing
that at any other time would have mystified a man. But, at that moment, there
seem to be so many other imperative things other than a stone block that
collected no snow on a winter’s morn.
Curiosity
overtook everything that morning.
Looking back, Eli
realized that with the inexplicable he really should have been anxious. Using
logic, one waking up in a strange place, with no understanding of how he got
there, would be troubled, if not outright frightened. To a logical person, in a
logical situation, this could truly be terrifying!
Curiosity
overtook logic that morning.
Eli became
intoxicated with the dreamlike beauty of the forest. The perfect white of the
snow, the nakedness of the frozen trees, the eternal rhythm of death and
rebirth, the beautiful innocence of nature encircled him. He softly exhaled and
dropped to his knees in the fresh, soft white powder. He dug his hands into the
snow playfully and lifted up two handfuls, then slowly let it drop to its
original spot. Watching the spot for a few moments, then lifting his head,
scanning with his deep indigo eyes what lay in store around him. However, there
was nothing … Nothing but the miles of crystalline snow and his footprints
behind him. Eli turned his head toward the sounds of animals in the distance,
trying to stay warm on this crisp morning. And that was when he realized that
he was not cold whatsoever. He couldn’t help but notice that while inspecting
his hands, which were once raw and red, they were now simply his hands.
And unexpectedly,
a different thought crashed into his mind: It just might not have been the next
morning at all. It’s possible it could have been days - weeks – later. You
know, a rational mind considers the possibility of these things. And it’s a
rational mind that comes to fear them, after which it’s the rational mind that dismisses
them out of hand.
Curiosity
overtook rationality that morning.
Eli ambled over
to the stone table, running his hands over the reflective slate. His gaze
wandered through the snow covered everything. A gentle breeze swept snow from
the canopy in a powdery cascade. With lifted arms, he felt alive with the
forest. Closing his eyes, it was felt within. He inhaled deep, deeper than ever
before. There was this feeling of being one with the woods which was enticing
his spirit. Memories were an anthology of lives he'd never lived. He was a
writer, a singer, a painter, a pianist, an architect, a doctor, a teacher, an
engineer. Eli had seen everything and
nothing, and so now he needed to travel, to see everything again or for the
first time. This was the day, the hour, and the minute he would start looking
at and beyond everything that enveloped him. Losing him, losing reality, losing
everything …
Something was
heard in the far-off distance and that something brought him back. Standing
completely still, there came the recognition that it was a voice. A woman’s
voice; by far the most beautiful thing that he had ever heard. The notes were
soft at first but slowly rose. The ring was like ivory bells - not silver.
Silver? Too common; anyone can have a silver voice. No, hers was carved of
ivory, incandescently glowing. Creamy bone freckled with drops of shining
beauty. Eli listened to it and was captivated. A last he opened his eyes and
mused, not the origin, but the sound. The sound of it alone made him forget his
station in the clearing. It was suddenly forgotten how alive and on fire the
forest had made him, as the sound of the lady’s voice made him being more alive
than even the forest could.
Eli found that
the beauty of that voice resonating had brought him to his knees, even tears;
it was known in the depths of the heart -his very bones- that this voice was
why he was drawn, no pulled, to this place. That voice gave meaning to the
senselessness and filled in the pauses left in his heart by the secrets of the
woods. It was understood, at that very moment in time, that the melody was
meant for him.
“I need to find
this woman!”
But alas, the
sound of her exquisite voice was fading, fighting a losing battle against the
subtle sounds of the forest and the graceful mourning doves. She was fading
into the deepness of the snow covered trees, dulling the sound, where soon the
silent breeze would erase what little beauty of her song remained.
This just cannot
be allowed to happen! After having that splendor, it just couldn’t be given up.
It wouldn’t! Eli had to find it … Follow it …. Take it. He needed it!
Rising from his
knees, he absently brushed off the snow and began to follow the distant sounds
into the thick of trees, and the darkening wilderness. Trying his best to
squeeze through apertures of the snow kissed trees, which were becoming ever
more difficult to negotiate. Crafting a way through corridors and leafless
thickets lashing sleeves and legs, he forged ahead. The mist creeps closer
covering the forest like a cape. Moving as quickly as possible, with legs
feeling like stone. But despite all the effort, he didn’t make it to her voice.
Her call stopped.
The magnificence hadn’t gone entirely. Each astonishing note was etched into
his memory, and engraved on his soul. Lord knows how much he needed it back.
His mind wasn’t allowing for anything less. Eli backed himself into a tree and
allowed himself to slide down, slowly catching his breath. Tears gradually fell
in sorrow. The sun’s rays spun silver. In the end he fell asleep in the still
quiet of the winter’s morning.
Eli slept for a
long time after that.
iiii.
Waking up, the
first thoughts are of her. A smile spreads to his face as he considers her
voice. “If only” he whispers, “I wish we could be …” Sunshine was streaming
around him, dappling the earth and turning the misty air gold. A tear rolled
down his cheek as he rolled over and knew that she was gone. Another fell as it
was recognized that she was never there. What had transpired seemed as if only
a dream. It was some distant fantasy Eli
couldn’t bring himself to entirely remember. Everything condensed to a speck of
dust, floating through the corridors of his mind.
The time that was
spent sleeping was not an empirical fact that could be recalled with any
certainty. The sun was high in the blue morning sky, so it was either still
late in the morning, or this was later … Far later. Eli managed to suppress any
doubts of time and simply convinced himself that it was only a couple of hours
later in the same day. It was feeling cold again and the curiosity has all but
evaporated. Vertigo too had turned its
unpleasant head toward him; and fear had revisited to play a bit part in the
family of things. It was time to leave the forest then, but …
“Where is the
way?”
Eli began to walk
toward the rising sun, although he knew not the reason why. Maybe it was just
assumed that if one walked in any one direction long enough and far enough, one
should, by all logical and rational means, reach the end of such a place. Then
again, maybe he wasn’t thinking much at all.
Hours slid past.
The pit of his stomach is hollow, empty. Nothing fills it. His skin was red and
stung like an inferno from the cruel cold. A breeze began to pick up and Eli
tucked his arms under his shoulders, and his chin to his chest for warmth. The
whispering of old wood, groaned as it strained against the cold which filled
his ears. Clenching his fists, he kept walking. The pain of his nails digging
into his palms kept his mind off the trees and predicament. Some of their bark,
so wanting of color it looked to be blackish-gray, seemed warped. Knotholes
made misshapen eyes, apparently peering out at him from mutated skulls of wood.
The wind traced over his shoulders. There were the spreading stages of giving
up hope of ever escaping this hopeless place.
That was when it
was heard again.
The voice. Her
voice! The Lady’s exquisite voice was trickling through the trees. Soon it
began to ring loudly and distinctly through the crisp smells of forest pine. It
was coming from the direction he was headed! Eli ran.
Wasting no time
he was soon racing up the gentle grade at a full on sprint, heedless of stray
branches that may have drifted in his way. With every beat of his heart, with
every breath of his lungs, her voice grew louder, and in some unknown way even
more wonderful. He ascended the rise, and the river below began to impart
harmony. The sweet melody resonated as he ran down through the trees faster and
faster, kicking up clumps of snow in his wake. Some might propose that it was
the running through the forest that had made every part of him regained warmth.
But no one would be able to convince Eli, now, then or forevermore, that it
could be anything but her.
Finally he
skidded to a stop, and away went the voice.
Eli was there.
She began to sing
again. It was still so beautiful. The beguiling tune made gentle love to his
ears. It was as delicate as a Lotus petal, yet as powerful as a full symphony
performing Beethoven. Standing at the mouth of the river, frozen with both ice
and time, he finally saw her. She was walking along its solid surface, singing
her pure melody, and without as much as a glance, toying playfully with his
fascination. She, with her long silver hair, and elegant long ivory colored
dress, was as beautiful as the song she sung. From the beginning he just wanted
to lay back and watch her sing. Just to pass the time looking into her eyes,
and engaging himself to her song, was everything Eli would ever need to do.
As she walked
there was heard a cracking beneath her feet, a minor fracture, and an
imperceptible slim line. Quickly a spider web of crevices spread across the
surface with growing speed. The ice groaned and popped. Abruptly … The Lady
fell into fragments of crystal, plunging into the freezing depths, and the song
drowned away with her, taking with it every part of Eli.
He needed it
back. “I need her!”
Without thinking,
without logic, without rationality, and so swift as to be without fear, he
leaped into the abyss after her. It was a mistake he would ever regret. They were
both in the water. There, together, they at last looked into each other’s eyes.
And in that split second, they knew. And suddenly the world was warm and soft –
suddenly, time stood frozen, spellbound.
Eli outstretched
his arm and extended his fingers. She clung to them, and he pulled her to him.
Together they swam against the flow of the river towards the chasm in the ice.
The struggle was excruciating. Each stroke was a meager attempt against the
prodigious current. Every second seemed like an hour, every minute seemed like
an eternity. The frigid water seemed as a vice holding on to him. Yet … with
her he felt warm, with her, they prevailed. Reaching the fracture, Eli pulled
with everything he possibly had left, and lifted her onto the ice. She turned
to help pull him on the icy surface.
Arm in arm, she
helped him to the bank where she laid him down in the snow. She kissed him
sweetly on his forehead and whispered into his ear, “Thank you.”
After that his
memory dissolves …
v.
Eli awakened in a
cabin which was clearly in the woods. The scent of cedars and firs hung in the
air. Across the room was a fireplace, its lingering crimson color, dancing
around, painting the walls. And she was there, gazing very gently towards him.
She rose from her Bentwood chair, bent over him, hair softly brushing his arm
and touched his face with her smooth hand. “You saved me” she began, “Thank
you, thank you so much.”
“You want to
thank me?” Eli asked pulling away. “More than anything!” she exclaimed, her
eyes watering, smile spreading.
“Then let me
close my eyes …” he said, pausing again, “… And sing to me.”
Every so often
there is a flame that was so full of magic that burns brighter than the rest.
All Eli did know was that he wasn't dreaming. And he had taken the final step
into the light.
*The End*
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