Saturday 11 July 2020

The Rising Rain

Sometimes, Kara, I remember the future.  I catch glimpses hidden in stories and legend.  My future, and yours.  A magical night of fireflies.  Your joy as you watched them rising all around you like the gate of a thousand stars.  Your eyes, so wide.  Full of wonder.  I recall my gladness at being able to share that night with you, upon glimmering waters.  Reflections like a kiss between Heaven and Earth.  As though we had made secret wings of our dreams that night, and made truth of your birth-right.
   I still remember, Kara.  I've remembered that nocturne since I first heard your voice again. And I knew.  So I searched the stories until memory was met.  I recall key moments of your song from those times of dreaming light.  The realm of radiance that was our home before the challenge of this mortal flesh.  You're a little worldlier now, Kara.  But I recognized you instantly.  The same bright eyes and beguiling smile.  The open, shining heart.  Those melodies and harmonies.  Still the same beautiful girl you always were, before you so bravely chose the Earth again.
   There's far more to your story than you think.  There’s always more to stories.  Those legends and fairytales you loved so well when you were younger; they speak of half-forgotten truths.  Not merely fable and fancy.  In the ancient days there were shining voices among the visions of mortality.  Angels of the flesh, walking the forests and the fields.  Ministering to mankind.  Living among them, not above them.  Keepers and oracles of the tapestries, treasured by all who heard them sing.  Do you realize that you were among them, Kara?  Oh, my love.  It's a difficult task, trying to explain the inexplicable.  Attempting to convey something so much older than this sickening false chronology.
   Princess, I want you to remember the future if you can.  I want you to never truly forget the past.  Please keep it alive in your heart, through those beloved lullabies and fairytales.  I don't want you lost again in this vicious lie of so-called reality.  You are so much more than a girl with a beautiful voice and a shining heart.  You were a true jewel among the crowning glories of the homelands. 
   Teacher, student, visionary.
   And more.
   The courts of Eth'iri knew well of your playful humility.  This is the truth, this letter of love, written by someone who never forgot you.  Because love doesn't die with goodbyes, or distance.  Not if it’s real.  Kasi adores your kindness, and your courage.  Princess, I still remember those golden evenings in the gardens.  Y'asha would braid stars in your hair.  The two of you traded books with one another, quietly discussing art-history, melody and cartography.  I recall the river guardians planting summer flowers at the water's edge in honour of you.  An emissary who always put the work before herself.  In favour of worship, celebration and dancing.  The wishes of your Mother.  The works of your Father.  A birth-right truer than you know.  There is a holy flame at the very centre of you.  Sometimes you doubt it when you're sad, or lost.  But it's there, Kara.  Rain like drops of fallen sunlight in the darkness, waiting for the perfect night and song to rise again.

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