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By
N i k k i L e e :
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HERE.
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Please note this is only the first chapter of a much larger story that I am still working on.
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In a blue green oasis,
upon a world made by a river that never finds the sea...
The man steps into the warm afternoon waters, the dry ash that adorns his
body meltsfrom his skin.
The man steps deeper and looks at his ashy reflection, cast upon the lacquer of
the water.
There is a moment of vertigo, as his dry self meets the smile of his wet
ghost self.
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Naked of his ashy flesh, the man stretches long out into the river, reaching
for the next handful of water. Swimming, with long, rhythmic strides..
In a thicket of reeds, near a bloom of tall papyrus, where the beginning of
the water lilies lay heavy upon the rivers edge, a great water cow
snorts a heavy breath, as her eternal eyes take a calm and careful look
at the strange creature swimming by
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To the man, she
is a good omen. A little mother of the world & sacred guardian of the
waters of life.
The
man is blessed to have the divine creature meet his presence so calm.
For he knows her kind are more dangerous than lions...
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The
man swims on through the waters to a secluded area that he knows as the lunar
pond.
Here amidst the darting
of dragonflies, the man finds a wet field of lunar flowers.
By day, their blooms look
like white lotuses, but at night rather than folding up as many lotuses do,
these flowers will stay in bloom.
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And with the light of
the moon
will glow as pure as the light.
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Taking a whole blossom of one of the flowers, the man holds the sacred lotus by its’
supple stem across his lips and begins his languid swim back to the cove.
Swimming once more near the thicket of reeds, where the papyrus grows tall and the water lilies lay
heavy upon the rivers edge, the great water cow is no more to be seen. But the
man has no doubt with the setting of the sun, the great cow has the dead of the
river to tend to and so he makes his way alone.
Upon the shore the man digs a small hole and fills it with water from the river
and there he lays the bloom for the night, but the sky will be dark and there
will be no moon to light it petals bright ...Then even though the night is warm as is his ritual, the man gathers dried wood
from the shore and makes a small fire for himself as he watches the sun set.
In the dark of the night, the mans eyes are lit bright with the
brilliant spectacle, of the summoned fire's elder dance, gathering
energy and growing hotter and brighter until at last the fire is
ready to tell the man stories of the burning wood.
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NEXT
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