Bloody sand, the rifleman
the scent of death, blossoming in
crimson glory. Flowers withered
in the sun's ascent. No walls, no
battlement - only the endless waves
of bloody sand.
Outcropping of a hill, a cave
used to have a name. He wondered
if it dwelled with them, down in the
underworld. Brightest light to shadow's
depth, the shift was made complete.
He shivered at the echoing of slowly
moving feet - knowing only
that he must move on.
Deeper yet - a glow, a light
- a crystal
shimmering, became the essence of
the only dream that he had left. He
stumbled and he rose again within
this vast descent. The hills were
honeycombed, as if a gathering of
giant ants or bees had lived here once
before their great abandonment began.
A lonely echoing of tone grown
was fading into every particle of air
that he must breathe. Benumbed,
his feet kept shuffling along. The
numb of shock was all that he could
feel. Distantly he wondered why,
he alone of all the hive, still lived.
Armied individuals, a massive
become as one with wind and sand and sun.
He tried to run, but overheated; absently
engaging all the power of his will to just
survive. At last he'd come to this, yet still,
he knew not where to go or how to live.
Visions flashed, repeating
great artillery. Had he dreamt it then, and
merely now awoke within an altered scheme
of yet another dream? Where was the
waking world that used to mesmerize
his soul into belief?
Another shift, and ocean waves
tumbling there in him. Rise and fall, the
crash of force on sandy shores bore in.
He felt himself an offering to gods he'd
never seen. Fire seethed and raged
within the one and only battlement
he knew. He himself, no more than
just a shadow of his past.
He gasped for air, his lungs
hungering for more. 'Twas then he
spied a lonely figure walking down the
shore. As if in trance, she never even
stole a glance to where he lay. Tattered,
shriveled, cold and torn - was this his
death at last arriving here?
Beyond belief, she gently
cradled him within her arms. Compassion
flowing through the many charms that
she compelled. And there, the end
became a new beginning for them all.
For her, the task was simply called rebirth.
Awesome beauty opened out into a healing,
as blissfully, he slept and dreamt of love.
Awakening, a cloud was bent
the moon. Within a swoon, he watched
her walk away unnamed, this glimmering
that some might call his soul - knowing
that each day he lived, he owed it all
to her. Heaven sent, the starlight sang
on slowly building waves. He turned
and walked the other way, knowing only
that they'd meet again someday -
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .