Thursday, October 20, 2005

The clearing

I rode toward the edge of the forest at a gallop, the almost-chilled wind throwing my horse's mane into a beautiful flow. I entered the woods at a small opening, where the trees where less dense, and there were clearings every few hundred feet. I was late. Late, not for some event, not for someone, but for the sun. Every spring, when the sun was only so high, it entered one of these clearings, one I had memorized the path to, and glowed off the spring mist that was lifting from the wet forest floor. The leaves in the trees created rays that made the small clearing feel like... heaven. And it was there I was headed, for I was meeting the maker of... heaven.

I galloped on, dodging the trees as they became thicker and thicker, until finally, I arrived. It was just as it always was, just as it needed to be. I jumped off the armoured, battle ready stallion, with a rattle, my own armour making the descent difficult. I left my horse in the darkness of the dense leaves, and made my way to the center of the clearing where I removed my helmet. My long hair, wet with sweat from the ride, dropped almost to my shoulders, and I fell to my knees to begin.

When I did, there was nothing else. No other one. Only I, and my Maker. My thoughts never realised, became words, but neither did they stay in my head. My heart was full. And this was how I spoke.

Silently, I said "Father," then paused my speach to think of the weight of it. Father?

"Worthy, precious, Holy, Being of Love and Grace, here I am."

He approaches me, silent, invisible, but certainly existent. The presence was incredible.

And I begin, the thoughts finally realise, materialise, and I feel them, for I am... Warriorpoet.

1 comment:

PeacefulLady said...

She swallowed the lump in her throat...