A story continued....hope

A while ago I wrote a poem....that turned into a story. For some reason I have been thinking about that story all day today....and I feel like there is more to it....more to say....so this is what I have been thinking of today...finding myself lost in this random world as I went about my day.


Her hair splayed out upon the grass surrounding her weary face like a glowing halo
The only sound...her own breath
constant
the rise and fall of her chest seems to center her thoughts
Off in the distance a bird chirps and the sound of it's wings is magnified
inside her head....her weary head
feathers rustling against each other
As the sun shines down from a cloudless sky,
she wonders how she got here...
how did she wind up in this place
how long has her body been floating amongst the wildflowers and weeds?
The soothing warmth of the sun's rays feels like an old familiar blanket
soft...worn through...comforting.

The old man watches this vision of hope and beauty
a pillar of strength.
He leaves his post high atop the moss covered tower
descending the stairs one careful step at a time
His gnarled and spotted hand grasping the rail to his right
sliding along beside him
creating a high pitched twinge in the atmosphere between the cold stone walls.
His bones creak and his body shakes with each foot fall.
Determination causing beads of sweat to sparkle and shine upon his forehead
settling into the deep lines of wisdom
the crevices marking the monumental experiences of his life.
His breath is even
steady
rhythmic and sure.
He reaches the open door at the bottom and marvels at the dust motes flittering by through the rays of light that shine through.
Each a tiny marker of a world unknown.
With each of his hands gripping the door frame,
the old man steps foot into the open world for the first time in centuries.
The light is blinding to his wise eyes
his pale blue ancient eyes.
With a shaking palm shielding his sight,
he spots the woman in the grass.

The woman is lost in a moment of solitude which he can not bear to disrupt.
He knows she needs it.
He knows the sun is replenishing her soul
filling her heart with light and life.
He is drawn to her and can not deny the need to hold her face in the palms of his hands.

The woman opens her eyes to a shadow blocking the sun and knows it is him.
She remembers now
remembers seeing his face across the land
high upon his tower.
Reluctantly, she leaves her place of warmth in the grass as she stands
leaving behind an impression
a summer snow angel.

The woman opens her lips to say something...
hello....
how are you...
i remember you...
something.....anything.....
she is stunned to realize there are no words.
She simply gazes up at his ancient face and marvels at the wonders that lie beneath

The old man reaches his arms out and ever so gently rests his palms against her cheeks.
The woman is surprised at the strength and the soft touch.
She is surprised to find tears falling from her eyes...
completely unaware of when they began.
Seeing a mirror image of herself in his eyes.
The old man whispers a single word....
Hope