Nature renews itself as well as the human soul. |
First Place Winner - Journey through Genres, December 2011 She Called Me Daughter The last time I saw her she was walking away, not once looking back to see if I was still there. Slightly bent and mesmerized, she continued on to a beckoning destination, as if hearing a voice gently calling her. I sometimes wonder if I did not hear it too. During my vigil of this odyssey, I swear the farther she went away, the longer her hair became, changing from the lifeless sparse grey to a gleaming lustrous black that cascaded around her shoulders. Her clothing seemed to slip from her body without effort, as if they were no longer needed. Her step became more youthful and now she appeared to be running. I stared with awed longing, surprise and sorrow, at the woman I had depended on for so much and realized she was shedding her aged mask upon leaving the shelter of the arbor; leaving it dormant since all her seeds sown had grown and bloomed. It truly stirred my heart as she traveled further and further away. I wanted to say something, but knew she wouldn't hear me, now so faraway. I pined at the last image I remember of her, approaching the edge of the forest where a group of young spirits gathered around her with welcome. She turned now and I am sure I espied a smile on an unlined fresh face like the one I had seen on the day I was born as they led her through the forest door. And it was then a mist began to unfurl, as the sounds of a distant drum began a steady beat that grew stronger and stronger, until I thought my heart would burst. Line count: 36 |