Garden

My story is five years old,
although the dream lies dormant
in an empty white room
that echoes to the ceiling.
And so, the story begins:

I sit in silence in the celestial plane.
The stars whisper my name
and milky hands brush my face;
tears traced, they grasp my neck.
Before my eyes, a bundle of stars
materialize, in my hands possessed.
He says "drink, and do not stop,
even long after you've had enough."

So I sipped the sky, the stars and all,
and in my thirst, I began to fall
as if weighted with mortality,
I had landed in a garden.
It was a beautiful place,
when he found me among the blossoms.
A beautiful golden boy, his eyes like stars
that glimmered when he spoke, "Hello."

We played for days in our paradise,
in summer sun, snow, and rain
and slept under the heavens.
Not often did we go home,
but on those days that we did,
I counted the hours until he returned.
My fingers, delicate and white,
found no better home to hide than in his hands.


Two years in our happy kingdom,
a faery sprouted from the flowerbeds
and sought comfort on my shoulder,
his wings dripping glitter
became stardust in my eyes
and soon was I lost in his beauty.
Under the sun he glistened,
like dewdrops on crimson fruit.

My little nymph nestled upon my breast,
I had forgotten the boy I once loved,
and thenceforth images of the fae
did seep their way into my heart.
One day said he, so sweet, to me,
"Dear girl, from where have these tears come?"
And with the petals of a white daisy
did he wipe them from my cheeks.

I told him of my sorrows,
and in a jealous rage he fluttered
and sputtered his sparkling fury
of black dust to blind my eyes.
"From this day on, I curse you,"
he bellowed,
"That your heart is in shreds,
it shall ne'er be loved again."

He vanished from the horizon.
Days passed, and spring came,
with birds singing to the sun
and flowers that stretched to the sky.
My first love had left me,
disgusted, with only the words,
"I can no longer see you,
or speak to you anymore."

I watched him disappear into sunset,
surrounded by birds and blossoms.
I watched as my garden began to shrink
as it followed him in his footsteps,
drifting farther away from me.
Both the faery and he,
once so tender to me,
had set off to journey alone.


So here I sit, in what once was my garden,
and here I drink from the stars.
Someday shall I return to the sky,
but until then, live plagued with regret.
As ever am I dreaming.