A Wave of the Wand
A wave of the wind
the weather blows
again and again.
The creatures gather
in nests of feather
to weather the storms
that must begin.
And brave the souls
who hearts repose
in the glitter of illusion
to show the way.
For they are soldiers
great and bolder
who will one day unite
man who has gone astray.
Cherishing thoughts strewn like cherry petals in a Japanese orchard, fluttered about Lovelight's mind as she looked at old photos of her grandparents when they were young, then at them again in their older years. How time does change one, she thought, and yet though they were much more worn and frayed by the years they had lived, their hearts had grown stronger and their love as well. She vibrated with the thought of their kind words and soft caresses when she got lost as a child and couldn't find her way. They were always there to help her summon up the courage to once more get on her feet and do the right thing, even if it hurt like hell.
She laughed at that thought.
Courage was like a road that split a thousand directions. Make a choice, and then take the consequences.
Just like today. She sighed, and then swept her golden hair back from her eyes so she could focus on the tall dandelion leaning towards her. She was seated in a yoga position on the lawn of her grandparents, her concentration on the tinder feather like stamen that would float away with the slightest breeze, or breath from her is she wasn't careful.
She closed her eyes and held her breath, then centered her consciousness on a tiny pearl she imagined to be in the center of the dandelion, hovering on the tender stamen, as delicate as a feather, but grounded in a kind of wispy white light that clutched at it from all sides. It was a flower of Light. A feathery wand that she could blow away with her breath, or if she could gain control over her thoughts, wield it like a wand of power to concentrate her spiritual powers.
She had learned a lot in the last year or so. When she first saw the flower fairies, she had learned all too soon who she could talk about to, and who not. Her mother listened. Her grandparents listened, but only her mother understood, then one day as she had been playing soccer with her girlfriends, she had kicked the ball off the side and it had landed in the lap of an elderly gentleman of Chinese ancestry. He had caught it on a finger and it was still whirling on the tip of his finger when she approached him to take it back.
"Life is a delicate balance of power and strength, Light and purpose. Both are necessary to function. Both are necessary to achieve what is real in life. What has true purpose?" Then he had gently slid the ball onto her outstretched palm where it continued to spin.
"If we stay focused on what is good and right, the ball of our life spins effortlessly with direction and hope, but..."
She felt her mind drifting. The ball sputtered awkwardly in her palm, the dropped off.
"But if we lose our direction..." He gestured to the ball as it bounced down the bleacher seats back onto the field.
She had watched it bounce, and then turned to speak to him. "But..."
But he was gone. Where he had sat was nothing. No one was even near that thought, though some were looking at her a bit funny. Why?
When she told her mother later on, her mother had told her. "Angels come in all shapes and sizes. The people couldn't see what you saw. Most will not. Some will think you're crazy. Some will be jealous, and some just plain...most just won't...even care."
She realized then that she was not only a girl, but different in ways that most girls never could be. The older she became the more she became sure that somehow she had a purpose in life. A direction that was meant only for her.
She grew less resentful of being called Lovelight instead of by her real name Cynthia. She actually came to love the nickname, and would one day as she grew older actually make that name legal, even though she didn't really have to.
She felt the pearl in her inner eye's vision begin to melt and open up like a thousand petalled lotus, revealing layer after layer of delicate pink throat, until when it was done she saw a tiny star floating in its throat.
Her vision zoomed into that star, and it was as if she were being gently lifted by a gigantic hand of great warmth and tenderness.
And as quickly as the vision had come, it fled her, leaving her feeling alone, yet not alone. She opened her eyes and saw the tiny feather stamen bursting into the air, liberated by a sudden breeze that had blown in from the south.
She rejoiced in the freedom of the dandelion as it dispersed its seeds across the void of time and space to replicate itself somewhere else and begin the cycle and recycle of life and death as effortlessly as a potter turns a clay wheel to churn out his pottery.
She smiled and climbed to her feet.
She stretched her arms, then turned to go back into her grandparent's house, feeling refreshed and someone contained, as if all of her had found a kind of peace lacking before. She still didn't know what her purpose was, but she knew that every time surrendered her fears of being the thing she feared the most, she came closer to becoming the thing she desired the most...a true Light to all those around her.
Some would call that faddish, or stupid, or cultish, or a number of ridiculous things, as if being kind and generous were sins. People had lost their way in so many directions she realized, and if she wasn't careful, she too could become one of those who had held the Wand of Light and thrust it from her, believing that life was just about taking what you want and to hell with everything else. It wasn't. It never was and never would be.
She smiled. Yes, it was going to be a great day. A very great day indeed.
"Who are you?" Whispered the breeze.
"I am myself." She replied.
"Who is that?" It asked.
"Lovelight." She answered, truly believing it. Satisfied that the only answer she need ever give was the true feelings of her heart and soul and that everything else was just static on the TV screen of life.