(several nights ago I had this dream…)
.
She heard his voice
calling her name
again and again
till she opened the shutters
and looked all around.
From afar he shouted,
You must climb the hill
and come through my door.
.
Oh no – not now!
she called back to him,
I’ve no comb in my hair,
no blush on my cheeks,
no proper dress.
.
Just come to me,
he called again,
I have no care for appearances.
Just climb the hill
and come to me.
.
In protest she went to him,
climbed the hill
and came through his door
but bowed her head
that he’d not see
she had no comb
to hold her hair,
no blush on her cheeks
nor proper dress.
.
He stood beside a wooden table
where a single candle burned
and in his hand was a golden coin
which he spun on edge
faster and faster
till it was a blur.
.
What do you see?
he asked her then.
She gazed into the spinning coin,
I only see the inner core –
I only see its essence.
.
She raised her face
and no longer cared
that she had no comb
to hold her hair,
no blush on her cheeks
nor proper dress.
.
He reached out his arms
and pulled her close
and in their embrace she was home.
.
What always was
need never begin,
only love is real
the rest is just spin.
.
© 2013 Betty Hayes Albright
Seasonings 