The Heavens Gift

The Angel

Swans gracefully glide across gleaming water the same way she would take her bounding steps on top of the water expressing her dance. The craft she created with her melodic hands carefully tying and piecing together each beautiful string into magic. If you ever came across her she would ask you the same question.

"Do you believe in magic?"

Now of course, not everyone said yes. Eyes made of honey and lips the color of soft pastel rose seemed to consume anyone before they could register she spoke to them, so the legend says. Long wavy hair the same color as the Earth with freckles that represented the flowers that grew upon the dirt. The warm sun seemed to never lose sight of her as if it couldn't live without her.

"Magic?"

Some would question back with skeptical faces and frowned eyebrows. She would simply laugh a supple tune that would bless their ears like a quiet breeze and whisk them away from reality.

"I can show you."

Those melodic hands would then reach out for you, nobody could refuse. Words spoke that once you took her hands the same warmth the sun gave her would fill your body and you could feel it for the rest of your life. Like permanent ink the adventures she took them on never appeared to be forgotten.

Shining water she danced across would welcome you the same way it was a home for her and you too could dance with her and notice the planet's heartbeat. The thumping would increase each and every time she touched the soil or reached under the water to cool off.

Love was a strong word and yet the Earth loved her more than any child it had been blessed with. No harm or ill intent conjured in those kind eyes, such kind eyes that could meet your soul and shake its hand with playful intent. Many called her an angel sent from the heavens above to help guide humanity into our own salvation but elder wise men and women would say she was just a regular person who had deep connection with the air she breathed and the grass she ran through.

"Skin like a pearl, almost transparent, you could make out her beating red heart."

Children grew up with the story of the fair maiden across the woodlands. The king's daughter who the planet had a liking for too. King Cicely raised the poor girl on his own after her mother died giving birth. Many thought the girl possessed her mothers soul and was watched over by the angel of her passing mother that blessed her with such beauty and grace.

"Father?"

She would ask.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"Is she as beautiful as they say?"

Descriptions of her mother would leave the lips of many, but she was left only to imagine what it could have been like to have her mother by her side.

"Very," Her father would respond, stroking her silk like hair, "She had your bright eyes and your smiling dimples."

The only difference she had heard of was her mothers curly blonde hair that was hard to tame. Her father could laugh at the horror stories he experienced when dealing with the wild mess. Sleek golden coils that sat perfectly on her head which bestowed an intelligent brain that was passed on to her daughter, Elizabeth. Named after her mother, her father gave it to her so each year they could celebrate her birthday and remembrance of the late Queen of Adelaide.

Elizabeth, the angel daughter, romanticized life in the best ways. She was never introduced to the evil of the world and her voice would carry down the mountains and fill the ears of many, Elizabeth had the voice of her mother. Passing travelers would hear her songs from above and send home to tell their children bedtime stories of a siren. Never getting bored of the mysteries of the lands, people knew this was her first life and sometimes she would cry glassy tears when the cold wind blew against her red cheeks.