When you look at the world with something other than your eyes; a run-down bungalow becomes a castle, a pond a sea and a tiny stream a raging river safer on the other side. Naka knew it was safer because she could see the fairies; they were all busy mixing little pots of colors to playfully paint careful rainbows on each and every wing as butterflies sing.
Now the river is wide and deep and much too swift for such a gentle flower, beautiful yet sturdy as a weed; though in truth, she is nothing at all like a flower; if she had in mind to let loose the top button of her shirt you could glimpse a brilliant light, shimmering; Naka is a star shooting through life filled with happiness. Now any star, anywhere could most certainly cross any old river but not while in human form and so remains this watery boundary, bridge-less and safer on the other side.
“Safer from what” was the question Naka had often asked. And asked, and asked until the fairies could do nothing save flutter about in a taunting dance that tickled her to giggles; you see, laughter makes the light brighter and as Naka’s glow grows she feels as light as feathers, carefree and flying; she so loves the Fairies and this wonderful part of her world.
Loves them so completely just thinking about them leaves her whole and fills her with a desire to paint the rest of the world with their bright colors, there is such need out there.
Sometimes, just before dawn deep in dreams, Naka remembers when she was the one, the tiny, special spec of light to a little patch of darkness amid all the other stars and galaxies; and she misses them all. The fairies say that for some reason unknown she was sent here; they believe it is to bring hope and happiness after all she is the star in the middle, prosperous, bountiful and beautiful. But of what and to whom no one knows.
Naka stood, hands firmly placed on her hips and donned a hard scowl across her pretty face at the fairies, knowing, quite clearly, they chose to be over there simply because she was over here. Sometimes their willfulness frustrated her to no end, always testing and teaching when she had so few opportunities to play. Resigned to the tasks at hand, she closed her eyes and thought of a pot of the deepest red and dumped it over the closest fairies head; watching with rolling laughter, Naka glowed unrestrained as Dandelion, a rather proud fairy, flew frantically to and fro like an angry bee. Then the little girl quickly channeled her strength, born of mirth, at the trunk of a dead fall tree and placed it across the river. She was learning well, this little flower planted in a garden she had to make her own.
Now if there is one thing Naka wanted it was to be Naka; stars were meant to shine and whenever she found time to visit the fairies she always stopped at the dark pool to watch her reflection dance in the placid waters. She loved to let her light reach into the depths of darkness, it always felt right as if crossing the distance to home or doing something for someone no one else would do.
Her mother couldn’t see the light, said there was nothing there worth noting 'cept a girl where a boy should be; but Naka shined, none-the-less; and understanding the human body is only a moment in time, she wished, giggling at the thought of a star wishing upon herself, she intended her moments well spent. There was one thing about safer Naka had deciphered in her six short years: if laughter made her glow, sadness dwindled her until she lost sight of the little patch of darkness that needed her; she felt and feared that to remain sad might mean forgetting her way. The fairies danced their taunting dance to bring her back into the light and keep her safe on her journey home.
based on this Quote:
I wonder where a butterfly comes to its lovely hues?
I wonder if the fairies buy the pretty pinks and blues,
and then with brushes oh so soft, go painting on their wings?
The butterflies then fly aloft, away from tiresome things!
Naka Pillman
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