When you find the time away from the world to 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 playfully preparing to 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 strong; 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” is the question Naka most often asks. And asks, and asks until the fairies can do nothing save flutter about in a taunting dance that tickles her to giggles; you see, laughter makes the light brighter and when Naka’s glow grows she feels as light as feathers, carefree and flying.
She loves the Fairies. oh so much and this wonderful part of her world; loves them so completely just thinking about them leaves her whole and overflowing with a desire to paint the rest of the world with their bright colors; there is such need out there of bright things in dark places.
Sometimes, just before dawn still deep in dreams, Naka remembers when she was the one, the tiny, special speck of light to a little patch of darkness amid all the other stars and galaxies; and she misses them all. The fairies had explained 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 hope of what and happiness to whom no one knows.
Naka stood; hands firmly placed on her hips and donned a stern 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 come and 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 fairy’s 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 and 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 away from choirs 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 of 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 except a girl where a boy should be; but Naka shined, and shined and shines none-the-less; for she understands the human body is only a moment in time and she wishes, giggling at the thought of a star wishing upon herself, she intends her moments to be 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 long journey home.
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Author notes
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
A contest entry
- Naka Pillman -- The Star in the Middle by myrataal.
7000 points, ended November 15, 17 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Utterly enchanting, alive, and filled with wonder. You have brought such a gift to anyone who reads this one. Wonderful words my dear - and you know how partial to the fairies I am, oh but should I chance to see a shining star alive near my garden, how dear she will always be to me.
I will be wanting to hear this one read aloud. Beautiful.
~Pamela 
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this little face of life kissed the fountain of beauty brought in all living things for you have touched the essence in your pen and made me smile .. thank you for sharing hugs always Angel♥
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OH! How wonderous a write ...
I simply love it and I am sure Naka will too ...
Love
Myra
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I am just glad to have had the chance to honor her; I have loved your stories too.
thank you
ken
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