Stars & Dust ♥(my poem and writing book) ♥

•T W O•

A humble cottage late pleasantly on the seashore and the night begin to fall gracefully as It had it many times before.

The clouds— soft like sheets— turned fire red being touched by the sun, blessing the offing with an eerie magically glow— outdone.

The orange hue of the sky had cast a solemn shadow on the stone cottage, as a young girl tiptoed through the dark, with the fear of being spotted.

The intangible sky seemed peculiar to her—the atmosphere, the sun, the sea, even her cotton dress, felt too tight, and her height now reached the myrtle tree.

Something was in the air, the wild girl knew this very well, for the animals did not speak to her today, they were quiet, she could tell.

She was not allowed outside at dusk; she remembered her grandmothers scolding, but her childlike antics caused her to stray, once again going.

Her sand crusted feet reach the rustic door of her home, the hinges of the door groaned as it was opened, the sound well known.

The young girl with daisies in her hair turned and gazed at the horizon one last time, It was all hers, her playground, her sanctuary, her friend, her prime.

Her delicate figure crossed the threshold, trying to shut the doors quietly as possible, her pale face contorted in frustration, no avail, it was an obstacle.

Finally, the young girl searched for her grandfather with anticipation, for he had something to show her, something of past creation.

Her bare feet roamed the house seeking a candle to illuminate her way, the search had come to an end when she found one and held it silver tray.

She paused at the end of the hall, peeking into the quaint parlor, the bright-eyed girl quietly watched her grandfather near the fireplace, working with the woodcarver.

Only a few moments passed when the hearty laugh of her grandfather caused her to jump slightly, "I see you hiding child, come now," he smiled brightly.

Feeling like a deer caught between headlights, the young girl hid her face in shame, Nevertheless, she advanced slowly to him, as he called her name.

She bit her lip softly, transfixed with the glowing object in his fragile hands, It reminded her of something she dreamed of in a faraway land.

Her grandfather took the candle tray from her hands and placed it on the wooden table, a deep silence engulfed them both, deep bliss, only found in a storybook fable.

The only sound to be heard was the faint ticking of the grandfather clock, the flames of the fire spit and crackled, whose motion could put any soul into a sleepwalk.

"Do you know what today is my dear Alice"? Her grandfather asked softly, a knowing smile grew on his lips, as he looked at his granddaughter fondly.

The young girl—Alice, giggled with joy at his question, of course, she knew what day it was, it was her birthday, no discretion.

"It's my twelfth birthday papa," Alice answered with glee, But at this, he remained silent, a hand resting on his knee.

He motioned for her to sit beside him, which she did so quietly, his fixed state on her did not help with her beating heart or anxiety.

"Alice," he spoke to her with a smile and a stern nod, as the bold white moon shone silver beams through the window, her expression thawed.

"Yes?" The bashful girl said, feeling as stiff as paper, wondering, still, how she had won her grandfather's favor.

His thumb ran along the smooth edges of the translucent object, she inched closer, the pieces of the mystery she tried to connect.

"I was shown this on my twelfth birthday as well, and you are now last," his voice laced with emotion, reminiscing about the past.

Alice was lost in his words, curiosity pulled her mind, like a soft whisper she would hear, all through the night.

"What is it"? She could not help but ask, feeling tempted to touch it, entranced with the item in his possession, more than she could admit.

"Everyone must grow up including you," her grandfather told her sadly, her small heart dropped, feeling empty and void as a valley.

Alice grew somber and her interest in the alluring object grew weaker, and her whole world seemed to slowly turn bleaker.

She never knew this day would come so soon, she just hoped for this natural disease she would become immune.

"But I do not wish to grow up, I want to stay like this forever, please do not make me papa, to this I will not surrender."

"Oh, but you must— "he cried, "not all want to either, but in the end, we turn out a bit wiser."

He handed her the bright object, to which he explained; was a growing up trinket, a reflection of the future remained.

The trinket grew glowed in her hands as she held fearfully, the dread in her heart caused her to pray more fervently.

When she looked through the glass, something unsettling happened, It was as if the whole universe had darkened.

Flashes of her childhood swept across the core of her mind, so precise, every moment had to have been somehow designed.

For a while, her heart felt full, some moments where she felt most heavenly until in an instant the whole world began to change inherently.

Her paradise had turned into a nightmare, a place of great despair, war, hunger, disease, hate, death, pain, grief, and poverty were all present there.

Most heart aching of all, she saw that it was her time to grow up, to face the world as a mature being, a new person was about to erupt.

She saw herself having responsibilities and even raising a family, eventually seeing her inevitable death, made her almost lose her sanity.

Her world was now distant and altered, her experience had caused her to mature, there was no cure, and her sealed fate she would have to endure.

Her eyes were now opened, her mind, being, and soul—tuned as one, a new season she accepted had now just begun.

From that day on their lied a deep absence behind her eyes, like the immense emptiness that resides gravely in the dark skies.

A part of her was destroyed, her past, her innocence, all in a flash, she welcomed the unknown with open arms, the fire in her turned to ash.

From the distance, the mourning of the earth had remained unheard, for its lost child, whose spirit and essence it wholeheartedly yearned.

—Stars & Dust