The Passion of Air and Earth  

IamWetFire 53F
739 posts
8/21/2006 1:19 pm

Last Read:
9/23/2006 8:09 am

The Passion of Air and Earth

For "B", my quixotic warrior poet. I released you years ago to save us both. . .

He was one of God's special favorites, like some glorious winged lion. He had been beautifully, perfectly crafted for the purpose he served.

And I, naked, alone upon the ground, shamed, afraid, learning to breathe once more, learning to crawl before I could walk upright someday.

He was the arrow from the bow, aimed directly by God into my soul.

Razor precision.


No hesitation.

Such wounds, they say, are fatal.

He was the air elemental. Flying was his reason to live. Ethereal. Not of the earth at all.

Me, mere mortal, scrabbling about upon that earth for my daily bread and the space to see myself without distortion.

I thought I could hold onto the eagle, like a key in my palm. Fly away from the world that was my own. Fly away to dreams far above the dirty ground. But, like trying to grasp the very air that keeps us all alive, it was not possible.

The eagle flew skyward once more because I forced him from his perch with me. My own arrow, crooked, barbed, dipped in the poison of the lies that would free us both, driven into his heart, as I choked to death upon my own tears.

He flew away, wounded though not mortally. But, forever.

Then what of that key? What lock it fits, I still seek to find. It's tucked away, but fills the places others would have. How to explain to them that two separate bits of matter cannot occupy the same place in space or in time?

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