Last week I published Geoff Le Pard‘s stunning piece of writing, inspired by the following picture prompt:
Maria Matthews contacted me to say she also had a piece of writing rattling round in her head on seeing the picture. Thankfully it managed to get out and I can now share Maria’s magical piece with you. Sit back and enjoy:
These few words are to give hope that all is not lost for there are other ancient worlds shimmering a breath away from our modern one.
If I close my eyes I can see it now as it was then, a world beyond worlds, beyond cruelty, harshness and death.
I was a child of twelve when it first happened back in 1973. I was walking close to Tara on a summer evening. The bird song drew me to the spot. I stood looking at the rolling green beneath my feet and felt it – the shimmering of the air. My world tilted, I felt light, I blinked.
In a sweet instant my belief of what is flipped upside down and inside out.
I was standing on a pathway, guarded by a line of old magnolia trees. My nose itched with the sweet cloying smell that filled the air. Then I heard the song. At first I was certain it was a strange bird song but as I moved closer I saw it was a young girl who was humming. She was kneeling on the grass at the end of the tunnel of trees busy with her hands creating a daisy chain.
Her chestnut hair flowed and rippled courtesy of the light playful breeze. She was petite. I could see her face now, snub nose, a dash of freckles racing across her nose and her full lips moving as she hummed.
I became mesmerized by her flicking, moving hands. The daisy chain was four deep in width and pretty; as a boy who loved creating with wood I could appreciate the intricate beauty of the simple task she had set for herself. I sat beside her and she stopped humming to smile.
“Hi,” she said. Those blue eyes bore into mine.
For a long moment our eyes lingered, acknowledged and that was that.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.
I nodded. “I know. This is pretty.” With those words our two worlds were lost behind us as we sat at the top of the hill looking beyond the great halls of Tara. There was only the two of us, the now, the moment.
We talked for hours and suddenly she stood saying, “You will be missed, I will be missed. Can you come again?”
“I will.” With that promise my faith was sealed. When I walked back down the path and got to the last two trees the air shimmered and I stepped through back to the world of my birth. I was a little shocked the first time to discover that time had passed while I visited with Grainne. I had been there for two full days. I was berated for not returning home, my chores tripled in an endeavor to teach me how to be responsible.
The trouble was my responsibilities had shifted – my priority was meeting Grainne again.