She appeared in entrance of the cave, and announced,
"Clouds surround this mountaintop
who's peaks soar above the sky
as if to pass the sun itself...
Through mossy green, cold gray rock
over which I fought to climb
determined I, to reach the top
to seek the answers I might find..."
Peering intently into the cave for a mythical and legendary figure, she instead finds me in my apron washing dishes. I am caught by her radiant silhouette framed by the mountain-lit backdrop, and a plate slips from my grasp. Shattered pieces scatter across the granite floor and echo through the dark recesses of the interior passages and settle in the hollow caverns of my soul.
.
She began, out of breath, desperately, insistently,"It is on the meaning of love
that I have hazarded my own life and limb
to reach you, oh wise one.
You are the man of legend and myth
who resides at the pinnacle of wisdom;
it is here that they promised
I would find my answers.
.
If I must chide you, then I say,
do not shrink from the task set before you;
if I must plead with you, then I beseech you, and say,
consider the tears in my eyes and the ache in my heart;
if wisdom motivates you, then I say,
is it not man’s greatest desire
to discover logic in the mysteries of love at long last?"
As she speaks, my mind wanders away to the quick-spent years of my youth, pondering the same unanswerable questions that have forever plagued the heart and have forever confounded the mind. From those deep memories return those who now exist only in shadows, those whom I could have loved forever…
.
I regain my senses as another plate slips from my unfocused grasp and crashes chaotically to the floor between us… I gather myself and address her,
"Please, do not plead, come in and sit down,
before I lose all of my fine china
to man's deepest longings and greatest distraction.
Your tears are enough, though I confess,
your chiding and pleading have worked their spells on me, too..
.
I must be truthful with you-
on the subject of love, I am lost,
always fearful of the pain that strides abreast, hand in hand.
Yet, love is eternally sought, at every moment, during every day,
and it is rarely found whole;
even then one must deal with its companions-
ecstasy and emptiness, certainty and insecurity,
grasping tighter when it is slipping away,
only to crush it in its fragility.
I believe my heart is as hard and shriveled
as an unsprouted acorn these days;
perhaps I am sheltering it here,
away from all the misery that love brings.
Why, even simple eye contact is too much for me-
I am instantly lost and transfixed,
my heart ever on the verge of exploding…
It is that very matter- love- which has driven you here for answers,and from which I have retreated into this cold abode,
hoping to find peace and solitude.
So you see, I am not here to discover great truths
as the townsfolk below believe.
I am simply hiding away,
nursing wounds received from a lifetime of turmoil
caused by that very subject that you have journeyed here to understand.
Perhaps, just by witnessing me here and what I’ve become,
you may find all the answers concerning love that you seek…"
Pausing for a moment, she exclaims to whatever listening spirits surround her,
“As I peer into this legendary, mythical man before me,
to whom I have journeyed so long and hard for answers,
all haze lifts,
and I see a reflection of myself and of all my desires."
Her expression turns to concern, even pity,
"To your ailing heart I wish to lend a healing hand;
and in this, I see part of the answer that I seek-
to the question of how the seeds of love are sown…”
We sit in silence for a while, sipping and nibbling on whatever it is that an old man of the mountain has to offer. I break the silence.
“Please, speak whatever it is that is vexing your mind, for anything you say will be wisdom to my ears; for it is on this subject that I find myself so ill-versed.”
“Mmmm… Well, love is kind of like being with a vampirate,” she said after a moment, a wild gleam in her eyes. She swiftly stood, my heavy oak chair toppling backwards behind her like a wicker basket. Long, terrible fangs protruded from her now overly-full lips, her skin shriveling to a horrible yet glistening forest green. She was now both beautiful and ghastly. I lunge for my frying pan, ready to ward off her blood-hungry advances. Then ghostly demons appeared, dancing merrily through the air at my impending doom, enjoying every moment of it, singing…
“We are the vampirate's demons that sail the seven seas,
beware, oh sorry mortal one, for she is after thee…
When she has you in her clutches, to life you'll never, ever return,
as you become one of us, into flaming Hell you will burn!”
She, transformed into her stunning, yet hideous and deadly form, pinned me to the floor with an ease born of an unnatural, unearthly want. The demons danced about now even more frantically, in anticipation of a wild show, singing their sinister song in their shrieking chorus as her hot breath steamed across my chest now bared under the shirt she had eagerly torn away with wicked intent… it was everything I ever feared, everything I ever fantasized... then darkness slipped over me...
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The first thing that I perceived through my fuzzy haloing eyes had been her, transformed back in her demure self again, sitting quietly at my table, sipping, nibbling, in deep contemplation, and with a regretful demeanor about her. A demon flitted away through a cave wall. This and my torn shirt confirmed I had not just experienced a mere nightmare. I check my neck for puncture wounds...
I slowly join her at the table. There we were again, in mutual thought and silence. She abruptly straightened, and looked up at me with imploring eyes, “You see how love can turn me into a monster! All that I seek is to understand, to be able to control the demons that plague me…”
I pondered long. I was glad she had the patience to wait for a meaningful reply. I finally respond, “To me, love is at once simple and complex, and to master it, one must tend to both; for even the most complex design can pale next to the simplest gesture. I would prescribe great quantities of the simple before pursuing the complex. In fact, I would go through entire lifetimes with nothing more than the simplest of love.”
While she sat pondering, I began to write the thoughts and emotions that churned within me, hoping to coax them out of the misty recesses where they knaw away at the edge of sanity, and into a clearing where light shines and they can be dealt with. I open my old, worn journal of mountain goat-skin parchment, and began to scrawl with an eagle-quill pen,
If love could be summoned by one at will
and souls united without black arts,
if simple expressions would alone sustain
that which words alone have failed
between two lone and searching hearts,
if the world revolved around a simple love
free of complex schemes and plans,
free of measure, free from tests,
perhaps then nature could do the rest…
But love is ever dangerous,
weaving unexpected cloth
so soft, yet strong in shades of blue
that wrap one in their mystic moods
that should not be, must never be,
such feelings that now arise in me...
Must everything turn to love
and from that ledge, fall, shattering?
Even now, in simple trust
love conspires in evil lust…
lust, the glue that binds, perhaps,
but is a vile dreadful curse
that lures us toward what we must not have…
My mind is a fever, I must resist
I cannot promise forever, this
enchanting moment treasured thus;
and yet, could it be, what I truly want,
is a simple outlet for my love?
I dare not look up at her now; not with these feelings that I have suddenly discovered stirring within me; all that I glimpse now is her whitish glow, a glow that I deem can only come from a goddess; a glow that I shall not taint with my base and mortal desires and longings; she did not journey here to satisfy my starving needs...
and as I fought my own demons, she took my hand...
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
How you cleaned up the end was absolutely beautiful!!!
