Wednesday, April 8, 2009

A real feeling....

The lights glow with enthusiasm, then dim to a lull of solitude. The voices rise like an assembly, yet each distinctly different. Every sound unique, beautiful and full of pure, childlike peace and contentment. How could life be more satisfying and beautiful then it is right here, right now in this moment? Every little motion and movement is the action of close and intimate, comfortable friends.

A soft smile, a silly laugh, the touch of a hand and the rise and fall of conversation. Everyone is gathered to the gentle rasp of an acoustic guitar, faces raised in beauty, voices yearning with longing. could there really be anything more simple and pure as this?

I write, yet can capture nothing of this moment in time that will soon end as the evening slips by, minute by minute, second by second. How time takes a vicious unrelenting hold on our lives. I wish I could hit the pause button, yet to stop such beauty would be an abomination to it's life. I want to experience a thousand more like it.

Where are the angels, where is the sweet fragrance? Can I hold onto this forever? Do these precious moments just fade. Never...they will continue on for eternity...heaven is waiting with a treasure store of them.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Dance.

When I opened my eyes, the gory battlefield was gone. Instead, a huge meadow spread out all around me. I blinked; my heart beginning to pound. Dazzling white surrounded me, a sea of it. A million white daisies. The sweetest of perfumes filled my senses with a heady richness.

I raised my head, fingers rising from the soft grass under my hands. A gentle breeze blew, lifting my hair off my neck and swirling the aromas around me. I reached up smiling towards the clear blue sky, closing my eyes fir just a moment breathe deeply.

Then my eyes snapped back open as other sensations assaulted me. The pain, wounds, sweat and blood has vanished!

I glanced over my skin and gasped as I saw beautiful, glowing skin, every inch of me! I felt of my face, suddenly giggling.

And then I saw the dress. Simple, white but delicately woven with tiny golden strands. It was perfectly fitted, mid-calf and silky. Small corded straps clung tightly to my bare shoulders holding the bodice in place.

I jumped to my feet, bare feet digging into the ground. The field of daises began to throb with emotion. There was only one thing I wanted to do.

Dance.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Who is this man?

It was only a smile of gentle compassion, yet in that moment the world might as well have flashed like a bolt of electricity through my vision. Why would this man take the time to glance my way with such innocent interest? No one looked at me with such mercy and kindness...only pity.

There was no pity in his blue eyes, only a gut-aching beauty. No one that beautiful had ever looked at me before. I dropped my eyes from his, willing him to walk away...like all the others. Do not give what I do not deserve, I forcefully thought.

Instead, I was shocked beyond comprehension as a voice spoke, a voice I knew was his.

"I saw you sitting here, and I cannot walk on by. Why is your head bowed to the dust? Look at me."

I raised my face, nearly wincing as my eyes met the intensity of his own.

"Why do you want me to leave?"

I blinked as I felt my soul ripped open at his words. Who could smile like he had and then read my thoughts like an open book?

"You do not have to sit here anymore. I've come to take you away."

He was completely straightforward and bold, every thought completely focused on me, with a purposefulness that frightened me. Within seconds my world had changed.

I had said nothing until now.

"Leave while you have the chance, they will come for you, and there is nothing you can do."

His face instantly changed; blue eyes suddenly darkening to a deep-seated passionate anger. The anger was not directed at me, but at the "they" I spoke of. My mind and heart jumped at the strange emotion his response invoked within me.

"I have searched for you for many months now. I do not walk away just walk away. "They" have no power over me, nor do "they" give me fear."

I trembled for a split second and involuntarily drew back as he took a closer step forward.

"Please..." I whispered.

"You have cried out for help," he said softly," This is what it takes. Today is the day."

I curled into a tight ball against the doorway, my hair falling in front of my face. I began sobbing, scared of this man's unfamiliar kindness and strength, yet scared of my captors' terror and oppression just as much.

The man knelt before me on one knee and I felt his hand reach out to brush away my hair.

"I will not leave, tell me, do you want to be free?"

I shrank from his touch, yet slowly nodded.

"Then I want you to do something for me, can you do that?" his eyes probed for an answer with all the tenderness of someone I had never known...a father.

The query in his voice was so trusting it was as if he had no doubt I would do whatever he asked. I shuddered, knowing in my heart I wanted to do nothing. I had always been made to do things, but his voice urged me so earnestly, I found myself nodding once more.

"Give me your hand?" he replied instantly.

I shook, afraid to touch him. He was a man, mens' touch were brutal. Yet my hand slipped into his. His touch was beyond anything I had ever felt. I gasped for a breath, my vision blurring as a searing shot of heat coursed from his fingers into the center of my body. A second strange emotion filled my being, a feeling of longing, of hope and dreams. A picture of a beautiful garden flashed before my eyes, piercing my heart with such desire I thought I would never be able to breath again.

The picture vanished and I returned to the filthy street, kneeling in the dirt, one hand clinging to his blue-eyed man's hand.

My eyes sought his hungrily, like a child's. I realized only he could take me to that garden. I cry escaped my lips and then my vision began to fade again. I felt his hand release mine and then two strong arms lifted me up effortlessly. My head was cradled against his chest.

The last thing I remember before losing conscienceness, was a kind voice speaking in my ear.

"You will be loved as you were created to be."