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A fierce wind howls as dark clouds race across the horizon,
     and beneath the hood draped over his face the man thinks;
of a vast land with wild clear waters, of streaking sunrises and sunsets,
               and woodlands in a thousand glorious shades of greens.

This man from the past has heard her prayers calling him,
     past time and destiny and beyond her tears have beckoned;
his mission to find her and together they will dwell in his ancient world,
               she has waited for him all her life, never seeing his face.

Yet, she loves him with all her heart and soul, this she knows,
     over mountain peaks and rivers wild, through jungles lush, he has come;
now, he stands in the shadows of her room, in the mist of dawn,
               her long hair in tangles, her skin so pale, it takes his breath away.

He steps forward and reaches out a hand to touch her falling tears,
     and in the moment he fades as if dust in the morning light;
a bird sings in the cool air and her room smells of the forests as she rises,
               a soft touch has awakened her, a lover's caress so gentle.

All that day she is haunted with unknown feelings of loneliness,
     wandering the garden, she silently walks, lost in dreamy thoughts;
he watches from the foliage, the hood still covers his face, the time soon,
               she hesitates, moments pass and he fades in the dappled light.

That night candlelight flickers on the walls of her bedroom,
     it casts shadows in the corners, a soft breeze fills the silence;
she sits at her dressing table brushing her hair until it is shining in waves,
               suddenly a wind catches the long strands and billows them about.

He stands behind her watching and slowly he removes his hood,
     she is not afraid as she stares into the mirror, she has been waiting;
waiting for his man, as he twines his fingers in her hair and whispers,
               taking her by the hand to the bed, they finally kiss.

They find her in the morning, she is peaceful and deathly still,
     her face pale against the white pillow, her lips lush and purple;
her eyes closed to this world, she looks asleep perhaps about to rise,
               dark clouds drift in the sky and thunder rolls in the distance.

Raindrops begin to fall as the casket is lowered into the ground,
    the small gathering bow their heads stepping forward to lay a flower;
and although, she had been old, she had been buried in a beautiful gown,
              of ivory lace and beads, as she had requested in her Will.

                            

_________________________________
July 21, 2013


Epic


Written by Broken Wings


Submitted to the contest, Epic Only, sponsor, Skat

Third Place
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