At The Edge Of The World
by Scott Utley
I followed the song of the nightingale through the forest
to the edge of my mind. I remembered to cut lilacs from the
bank of the creek as I raced to the place where we first met.
The Muses found me naked, singing lullabies to falling
stars under a blue harvest moon. Fearful for my sanity,
they summoned the Elder Sprites and Green Wood Elves, well
known for their healing powers. Do you remember the cliffs
of desire where we first met, at the edge of the world,
near the temple of the heart where the ocean meets the sky?
Do you remember Frey, the golden bear who wished us well?
The Sprites, thinking I was crazy or insane from hunger,
fed me cherry blossoms and distracted me with fantasies
from the other side of time. The Wood Elves on the other
hand, being somewhat more hopeful than their cousins,
insisted that I was a sign from the Great Source Of Our
Belonging. They proudly displayed their magic to me and
showed me how they had learned to make the stars sing.
They taught me to expand my heart beyond what I thought was
its final frontier. They showed me how they weave their spells
with hope I might finally free myself from the ghosts of my
past and the image of you when we first met. I could never
let that happen though. Sometimes Wood Elves can be so
naive. I love this cliff near the den of the bear where the
sky drinks the sea, where the mountains stand tall at the
edge of my mind where we bathed in the ocean of
forgiveness. That was ten thousand years ago but here I
still stand. The Western Wind says you will be home soon.
I knew you would return. Please hurry, my whole world is
waiting for you. I am still holding lilacs too.
Posted on 05/09/2006
Copyright © 2006 Scott Utley