There was a spray in the green air,
And there she was flying high and above
The lush forestry of the strife torn land
Looking through curious eyes
At the littler men with paler skin and smaller eyes.
Her journeys were sudden and uncertain
Spurred by the wind that felt best on her skin,
Not always the strongest one
She had a way, a will rather
With the winds of the world
Her strength, she once said in an epistle
Reaching out to him
Was in the endless spool of powdered glass thread
That ended in his palms
He was standing by the shore
Anxiously looking at the calm horizon
Straining his eyes
Trying to hear from the wind what she was saying to him
As the sky turned graver
The wind whipped up a frenzy
Fiercer than Noah’s storm
Louder than the ancient battle cries.
Within minutes a thousand needles pierced his skin
His throat letting out guttural scream
His heart thumping the life out of him
For a sign from her.
Through the madness of the tempest
He felt her faintly tug at him
And he looked towards the distant heavens
With largest and most desperate eyes that ever searched them.
As she pulled at him stronger
Her turbulent troubled cries echoing in his ears,
He ran across the shore of the raging sea
Releasing rapidly all that he had stored his palms.
Oh what a night it was
The boy running all through it
Heaving, gasping, tripping
Squeezing everything that his small lungs could offer
While his braving beloved
Battled the tearing winds, broken limbs
Tears streaming down her crimson cheeks
Pulling herself higher and higher above the storm
With the her will and his unwinding reserves
At the calm dawn he was sitting on the damp shore
Little feet on a jagged rock
Tattered shirt dangling from his elbow
Back resting against that of his friend dearest
” Im afraid for you”, his friend said
“That one day you will lose your head
What if the winds break the thread”.
Silently the little boy pointed upwards
Where along a hazy orange
His red kite was sailing peacefully
Silhouetted against the morning sun,
“Nights like yesterday are for mornings like this”.
He felt her calling him to take her in,
Entrusting the spool in his friends hands
He pulled at the thread with both his arms,
Impatiently she floated through morning air
Desperate to sink into his arms without a care
As the kite landed, it was transformed into red frocked pig tailed girl
Rushing into his embrace and he into hers
Later,by moonlight they were at the sea
She brought from a distant land the sweetest melody
While he plaiting her hair tight, listening.
Tony Xavier 