All Love In A Day

A girl sat on a green hill by a green tree overlooking a blue sea.

The sun was rising as she whispered a secret wish to a butterfly, who flew out over the water with her secret words.

"So many times I send messages on the wind," she said. "But no one ever hears."

"I heard you," a voice lilted behind her.

She turned to see a young man walking up her hill, smiling as the morning light filtered through him. He carried something with great care.

"You are sick," he knelt beside her. "And you are afraid to die before you know love. I promise you will not die before you know love. But many have. And they understand your longing."

Looking at him was like looking into a clear stream, the grass and wild flowers beneath his silver still moved in the breeze.

"How do you know this?"

"Because I'm one of them."

"You're a ghost?"

"I am a painter and a poet," he laughed. "A dream between two sleeps. Like you."

He gave her the beautiful silver box he carried. "This is very special. Once opened, you will receive all the love I carry for myself and others. Love we held onto, love we never got to spend. But only for a day. All love in a day," his eyes glimmered as gold. "When you hug me, you will know it. When we laugh, we will share it. When we run, we will feel it."

"Only for a day?"

"Everything is temporary. The sooner we get that, the sooner we get to living. The sooner we get to loving."

"But a day is so fast."

"And every hour is an empty canvas."

"But how do I open it?" She studied the lock. "I haven't a key."

"Haven't you?" He pointed to the ornate silver key she wore around her neck. "The key is with you. The key has always been with you."

She smiled and opened the silver box with the silver key, but she didn't feel any different. She held his eyes and asked, "Can I hug you now?"

"Yes, please," his smile was big. "I've waited so long."

Their embrace was magical as the truth of his words poured through her, as secret gardens of the heart bloomed in magnificent colors. The green in the grass seemed to whisper now. The sun, a little more golden than before.

"Remember, we only have today," he said. "What do you wish to do with all this love?"

"I want to run through a field of beautiful wildflowers."

And so they did.

"I want to get lost in a forest, and laugh and play with the animals and sing very much."

And so they did.

"I want you to teach me how to paint."

And so he did.

"I want to learn how to dream and grow strong, and stop doubting myself."

And so she did.

"I want to speak my heart and be heard. Really heard."

And so she was.

"I want us to climb an apple tree, and taste the sweetest ones."

And so they did.

"I want you to teach me how to be a poet."

And so he did.

"I want to plant an acorn that will become the mightiest oak, home to families of squirrels and birds who will sweeten each morning with song."

And so she did.

"I want to be forgiven for ever disappointing anyone."

And so she was.

"I want to make beautiful music with you, so everyone who hears will know love too."

And so they did.

"It's almost night," he said. "What would you like to do with the rest of our time?"

"I want to watch the moon rise over a lake, a still lake reflecting shimmering stars. And when they fall, we can make wishes."

And so they did.

They lied on their backs and watched the heavens turn in all their endless wonder. Finally, he said, "I have to go now. Time just flies when we let ourselves dream. But I have to thank you."

"I am the one to thank you," she rose with him, following his eyes, still golden shimmering in the dark.

"Love is best as a wind that blows both ways." He hugged her, and whispered, "You aren't sick anymore. Grow old and be happy. Be brave and believe you can."

She could feel the love had healed her. "I don't know how to repay you."

"You can promise me something."

"Anything. Just ask."

"Promise you'll never forget me or my gift," he started to fade. "Promise you'll never forget how a day can change you."

She promised she'd never forget.

And she never did.

Even when she died many years on, an old woman safe in her bed with the silver lock box and key on her mantle. Surrounded by paintings of falling stars. By the shelves of poetry she wrote. The sheets of music she played. And she smiled as she passed, cradled in the cool shadows of the giant oak out her window, where birds and squirrels slept happy and still grateful for the dream.

~ Finis

© R.Queen, 2015 All Rights Reserved