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PHOTO INFO: minuet_of_forest_by_yumedust.jpg

a beautiful piece of work found here [ yumedust ]

The wind whispered through the trees. I could feel it tickling the back of my neck, stirring the hairs. It felt like a carress, soft and seductive. I walked through the leaf-ridden underbrush, feeling the dry leaves and twigs break beneath my bare feet. The wind persisted to tug softly at my gown as I went on. I could feel the call beackon me, drawing me onward. The relentless whispering of the wind continued around me. Soft rays of moonlight filtered through the treetops, creating a dappled effect that resembled little twinkling lights all around me. If I let my eyes roam out of focus just a bit, I could see they were dozens of forest fairys leading the procession.

I continued forward, allowing myself to be directed by the wind and the fairylight and the beakoning pull. Deeper into the woods where the shadows stretched far and almost seemed to reach out for me- trying to touch me. My gaze lingered on them- on the pure palpableness of them. But still I walked on, my sights once more returning to the path before me and the energy that drew me onward. My thoughts wandered a bit to the realization that I was no longer walking among the physical “real” world anymore. Somewhere along the lines I had passed over into another dimensional aspect of it. Everything seemed to have it’s own life and existance. Everything lived and breathed and had thought. I could hear it and feel it all around me. I could feel the deep resonating life force thick around me.

And then I heard it- soft and distant at first, slowly circling me and growing louder and more distinct in my ears. It was the sound of something almost like a flute- but not quite. I couldn’t make out what the instrument was- It was deep and pure. Still the woods pushed me onward, the little lights and branches seeming to pave a path in the darkness for me. My skin prickled as the music grew around me. I felt the butterflies alight in my stomach, and I was giddy and somewhat disoriented. It was as if I had been drinking a sweet wine, and the effects were pleasantly warm and seductive. I closed my eyes and spread my arms out to my sides, and let the leaves brush against my fingertips, savoring the sensations that were so much more intense in these thickets. The breeze whipped my nightgown against me, and the ground seemed to swell with each step of my feet…urging me forward.

Then suddenly the air grew very warm, and the sounds seemed to hush- all, that is, but for the sweet deep sound of the music. It seemed to expand around me. It was quick yet solemn, happy and mournful at the same time. The atmosphere around me seemed to pulse with the sound as if a heartbeat echoing through the land. I opened my eyes, and saw the source sitting motionless upon the small boulder in a small clearing within the forest. His eyes closed deeply – focused on the story he wove with his mystical device. He was very feminine looking- tall slender limbs, long fingered hands, beautiful yellow hair pulled back into his green hooded cloak. His ears were long and pointed, jutting out from the sides. His cheekbones were prevelant and high. His mouth slim with soft feathery lips wrapped around the end of his flute-like object. The musical device was a handsized , hollow, white bone-looking substance. He perched there, unmoving and apparantly unaware of my presence. The fairy-light gathered around him, giving him an aura of omniscience.

I stood, mesmorized- my body overwhelmed by the beauty of the song and its creator. I swayed with the throb of the surroundings. I felt my heart swell in my chest, constricting in my throat -ready with a sob, only to become washed over by relief and gratitude and overpowering happiness. I felt carried away on clouds- swimming through waves of emotions and realities. I floated up above the whole of the world- looking down and cradling it as if it were a babe in my arms- crying for it, loving it, mothering it- wanting nothing more than to protect it and help it grow and develop into something good and wholesome.

After a few moments I realized that the music had ended. My feet were settled back upon the hard earth below, and the winds and branches that seemed to have carried me had loosened thier grip and let go. The air around me was still thick, and anticipatory. I slowly opened my eyes, and the elven man upon the boulder sat looking upon me curiously. His hands were relaxed in his lap, the instrument grasped lightly in one leather wrapped hand. His eyes were a piercing green. I could see that from here even. His skin seemed to glow with an unearthly radiance. He stood suddenly, and beackoned me forward. I shifted forward hesitantly. I was not afraid, but more awed. I advanced forward until I was mere inches from him. He was very tall, easily a foot taller than myself. He gently lifted my head- his hand tilting my chin up to look at him. He transfixed me with his emerald eyes. I could feel him delving into my inner thoughts, searching my soul. I did not struggle against this tender invasion of my being. I felt myself open up and let him in- showing him all within me.

He languidly let go of my chin, and blinked his eyes – thus breaking the enchantment. I saw him then as a man. An equisite man- but a man nonetheless.

“Such sorrow” he whispered. I could see his eyes filled with water, and watched as a single tear traced a path down his cheekbone. “Why do you carry such anguish with you?” He then pulled me into a firm embrace- holding me tight to him. My arms encircled him, giving way to his offered comfort. I could feel his heart beating hard beneath his vest. His head he rested upon my own, his face buried in my hair. I could smell the wood and musk of him, enveloped around me.

Just a man.. I had to remind myself. I couldn’t afford to let myself be carried away by this dreamy reality. It couldn’t possibly be real. He couldn’t possibly be real. Otherworldly, odd, and breathtaking.

All Around Me by Flyleaf A song that seems fitting

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THE CLAY VASE

It was just like him, to go off and say something so incredibly stupid like that. What in the world was he thinking? Telling her he was falling for her so soon was plain dumb- and so like him. Nothing like fucking up a good thing with open honesty.

He escaped, as always, to his work center. The feel of clay in his hands, the satisfaction of creating something beautiful with his hands, always made him feel better. He grabbed a glob of clay, and threw it onto the pottery wheel. He got the wheel spinning, slow at first, and formed his basic cone. He got the wheel spinning a bit faster as he forced the clay into the center, his arms digging into his thighs as he pressed. He could feel his pent up anger and aggression flowing out through his hands, into the clay. As he started the hole, his thoughts wandered to her- the flow of her hair about her shoulders that always reminded him of the leaves in Fall. The softness of her skin, and the feel of it brushing against his own. The way she smells when she walks past—something clean and soft, like baby powder. His hands worked harder as he thought about all he had probably just threw away with his recklessness.

He thought of how the morning had started so perfect. They had woken together in bed, him first as usual. He had laid there and stared at her, unable to pull his eyes away. She had opened her eyes finally, and the smile he lived for spread across her face. They lay there, just staring at one another for awhile- listening to the birds sing, and feeling the sun filter through the window. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Hungry?” he had asked her. She had nodded, so he kissed her forehead and got up, heading to the kitchen to start the coffee and a simple breakfast of oatmeal and toast. She had come out and sat at the kitchen table, silently kissing his hand as she accepted her cup of coffee, and browsing through the morning paper, making small comments about various topics she read inside. They ate breakfast slowly, discussing what they wanted to do with the day. She had been wanting to take a stroll through the park downtown, so they decided to go with that. They had made love before getting into the shower. He could still see the way her face looked as she had ran her fingers down his back with her orgasm. He loved watching that. He loved watching everything about her.

After showering, they went down to the park. The day was beautiful and warm. They walked along the waterfront, watching the boats and the birds and the way the sun reflected off the water. They meandered the paths, and he had picked a wildflower for her, which she had put in her hair behind her ear. They had lain on the grass, watching the different shapes they saw in the clouds. It was at this point that he had made his fatal mistake. He was watching her laugh, she had seen something humorous in the clouds, and she turned to look at him and point it out. She stopped when she saw him looking at her. Her smile widened as she asked, “What?”

“I am falling in love with you.” He had simply stated. Just flat out like that. She blinked, and had run her hand across his cheek before leaning forward to kiss him on the nose. She smiled at him, and then went back to looking at the clouds. No longer smiling, she simply looked lost in thought. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same.” He had said. “I know.” Was her response. She searched the skies for awhile longer, not saying anything else, nor would she look at him. Finally she sat up, and stated that she should be getting home now, as she had some things for work to wrap up. His heart sank, and he knew she wouldn’t be back. They had only been together for about 5 months. It was too early. He should have kept it quiet. He said ok, and they got up and walked in silence back to his car. He drove her home, and walked her to the door. She stopped and turned to him, placing her arms around him for a quick hug, and a quick kiss. She then had gone inside and shut the door.

He had walked slowly back to his car, and drove home. He had sat inside on the leather armchair he so adored, and spent much time sitting and reading in. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he had gotten up and come out to his workshop. His attentions returned back to his creation now. He had created his opening, and the walls were long and slender, He gathered a couple clumps of clay, and steadied the vase on the wheel before setting to his trimming. He carved out the base, and smoothed it down. He continued to smooth the vase until it was to his liking, then let the wheel stop. He stared at the creation, and smiled. It was beautiful, and it reminded him of her. He already knows it will be painted in the colors of Autumn leaves. He looked down at the caked clay under his nails. It always fascinated him, how he had to get so dirty, to make something so pure.

He was startled out of his revere by her voice. “It’s beautiful”, she said. She stood in the doorway, the setting sun behind her illuminating around her as if she were some sort of angel there to save him. She was an angel, in his eyes. He looked at the vase, not wanting her to see the tears that stood in her eyes. “Thank you”, he said. She walked up beside him and knelt down, looking at him “Yes, the vase is pretty as well, but I was not talking about that.” She gently took his hands into her lap, and caressed his fingers and nails. “I meant these”. She said. He looked down at her, and realized she also had tears brimming in her eyes. He started to say something, and she put a finger up to stop him. She put his hands to her cheeks, causing them to cradle her face. She closed her eyes and just felt them there, and he obliged, not knowing what to think or do. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I love you, too.” She whispered to him.

He gathered her to him and kissed her. The clay on his hands smeared all over her shirt and pants and he hugged her to him, grasping her as close to him as he possibly could. The clay vase stood there nearby, as if witness to what passed between them. It eventually did get its Fall colors, and it sits to this day on the windowsill of their house, always filled with flowers, a reminder of the beauty and purity of love.