Thanks...
-Wolfheart-
The Goddess
By:
Grey Wolfheart
04/25/07
11:44PM
The mid-Autumn air was soothing that night. Ezra took note of this as he gazed up at the stars, contemplating the natural beauty of the setting. How perfectly the gods had chosen the pieces of this puzzle. He took a long drag from his cigarette, and sipped lightly from a glass of wine. He did this often, sitting betwixt the heavens and earth, thinking of everything, and nothing at all. It were these times that made life brilliant. The moon was his mistress. The one whom he spilt his soul to.
He had just lain back and closed his eyes, when a whisper came from above him. Knowing he was far from sleep, he opened one eye, but lo and behold, no one stood before him. Passing it as the a breeze, he closed his eyes, and went back to his thoughts.
“My love?”
Again, he was drawn from his peace. This time, however, a nude figure stood before him. Haloed by the moon, she was a vision to say the least. Golden locks, framed her face and draped about her shoulders. Her pale skin was made brilliant by the moonlight. Very sure, was he, that he must be dreaming. She knelt before him, and raised a hand to his cheek. Despite the chill of the night, she was soft, and warm to the touch. He began to speak, but she put a finger to his lips. Almost as if she had stolen his voice, he obeyed.
At this range, he could make out every detail of her face. Her eyes were the bluest of blue. Her lips were full, and beckoning. Not a blemish marked her skin, and he took great notice of all her beauty.
He stayed in a near-trance, until at last she took his hand. He stood before her, but never removed his eyes from hers. She led him away from his spot in the grass, and into the nearby woodlands. How could she move so gracefully, bare, across the under brush? How did she know no fear, as they traveled through the darkness? He wondered these things as the trees grew thicker, and less light came through. But he never spoke. Never asked. Just followed her onward.
It felt as though hours had passed, when finally they came to an opening. Before him stretched a stream, illuminated by the moonlight. The clearing was almost too perfectly placed. Surrounded by trees, this place must have been near pristine. Untouched by man, but if that were so, how did this woman know of it? Finally finding his voice again, he asked, “What is this place?”
To his surprise, she answered, “This is my sanctuary. Every stone, tree, and creature in this place is mine.” As if silently cued, an owl spoke loudly from a branch above. “And as my lover, you have a place here, as well.”
Though puzzled by her answer, he spoke not a word of protest. Instead, she led him into the stream, and began to dance. She rested her head upon his shoulders and began to hum in his ear. He held her gently, listening intently to her voice, and soon realized he too knew the tune. It was a lullaby his mother used to sing him as a child, and one he had sung himself whilst sitting under the stars. How strange, he thought, that she would know the song. Again, however, he never brought it to point, and continued dancing with her.
An eternity later, she stepped away from him and lifted his head skyward. The sunrise was upon them. They sat on the bank of the stream, watching the sky turn to orange. She held him in her arms and spoke gently to him.
“Now you must sleep, my love. I will not be here when you awaken, but know that I will return.”
He looked up at her and asked a question that had been stirring in his mind since she came to him.
“Who are you?”
She smiled a knowing smile and told him very simply, “I am one you know, and one that knows you, all too well.”
And with those words, he felt himself drift deeply. He did not dream. He did not feel. He just slept the most peaceful of sleep, and awoke that morning, where he’d began the previous night. And in his heart he knew, that she would return…
By:
Grey Wolfheart
04/25/07
11:44PM
The mid-Autumn air was soothing that night. Ezra took note of this as he gazed up at the stars, contemplating the natural beauty of the setting. How perfectly the gods had chosen the pieces of this puzzle. He took a long drag from his cigarette, and sipped lightly from a glass of wine. He did this often, sitting betwixt the heavens and earth, thinking of everything, and nothing at all. It were these times that made life brilliant. The moon was his mistress. The one whom he spilt his soul to.
He had just lain back and closed his eyes, when a whisper came from above him. Knowing he was far from sleep, he opened one eye, but lo and behold, no one stood before him. Passing it as the a breeze, he closed his eyes, and went back to his thoughts.
“My love?”
Again, he was drawn from his peace. This time, however, a nude figure stood before him. Haloed by the moon, she was a vision to say the least. Golden locks, framed her face and draped about her shoulders. Her pale skin was made brilliant by the moonlight. Very sure, was he, that he must be dreaming. She knelt before him, and raised a hand to his cheek. Despite the chill of the night, she was soft, and warm to the touch. He began to speak, but she put a finger to his lips. Almost as if she had stolen his voice, he obeyed.
At this range, he could make out every detail of her face. Her eyes were the bluest of blue. Her lips were full, and beckoning. Not a blemish marked her skin, and he took great notice of all her beauty.
He stayed in a near-trance, until at last she took his hand. He stood before her, but never removed his eyes from hers. She led him away from his spot in the grass, and into the nearby woodlands. How could she move so gracefully, bare, across the under brush? How did she know no fear, as they traveled through the darkness? He wondered these things as the trees grew thicker, and less light came through. But he never spoke. Never asked. Just followed her onward.
It felt as though hours had passed, when finally they came to an opening. Before him stretched a stream, illuminated by the moonlight. The clearing was almost too perfectly placed. Surrounded by trees, this place must have been near pristine. Untouched by man, but if that were so, how did this woman know of it? Finally finding his voice again, he asked, “What is this place?”
To his surprise, she answered, “This is my sanctuary. Every stone, tree, and creature in this place is mine.” As if silently cued, an owl spoke loudly from a branch above. “And as my lover, you have a place here, as well.”
Though puzzled by her answer, he spoke not a word of protest. Instead, she led him into the stream, and began to dance. She rested her head upon his shoulders and began to hum in his ear. He held her gently, listening intently to her voice, and soon realized he too knew the tune. It was a lullaby his mother used to sing him as a child, and one he had sung himself whilst sitting under the stars. How strange, he thought, that she would know the song. Again, however, he never brought it to point, and continued dancing with her.
An eternity later, she stepped away from him and lifted his head skyward. The sunrise was upon them. They sat on the bank of the stream, watching the sky turn to orange. She held him in her arms and spoke gently to him.
“Now you must sleep, my love. I will not be here when you awaken, but know that I will return.”
He looked up at her and asked a question that had been stirring in his mind since she came to him.
“Who are you?”
She smiled a knowing smile and told him very simply, “I am one you know, and one that knows you, all too well.”
And with those words, he felt himself drift deeply. He did not dream. He did not feel. He just slept the most peaceful of sleep, and awoke that morning, where he’d began the previous night. And in his heart he knew, that she would return…
