Join for Free!

Corner Of The Sun

2 Votes 2
Score 5 5
0 Comments 0
0 Likes Stories Space Logo 0
895 Views 895
807 words 807 words
Standing here against a wall off of the main square her in the dark light of the sun, as I find myself leaning back as I close my tired eyes feeling the warm wind blowing and the heat under blue skies. Thinking of why I was hearing the sound of a drum being beat slowly and a fife played lowly? That was able to be heard during the heavy thunderstorm while it passed through last night, and wondering why I heard those played in the middle of that stormy night?

As I hear the bells from the Cathedral, suddenly ring out as is if being rung by an iron hand, to be able to be heard across the valleys and fields as I wonder for whom the bells are tolling? Ringing out clear notes to where the four winds blow from those high steeples so that all will know. Though the bells sound slightly like a dirge, the message they are sending is being clearly heard.

Standing here and sending a call to you in the form of a silent prayer letting the bells carry it, and wondering if you will call out my name or if you hear those bells being rung as if with an iron hand? And will you be able to wake me up and be able to save me from the dark as I have done with you in the past? And there have been times when I have asked you to hold on and say yes while all those around you say no. While I kept your secrets, even when you saw both the strong and the weak side(s) of me.

Reaching out to you as if from life to life and trying to live for both of us, as I find myself now hearing the almost rhythmic sound of feet as the call of those ring bells is answered by the faithful. Making their way to the Cathedral two by two as they slowly follow the sun looking like a faceless crowd, and knowing as I watch the procession that I might not know all things that you might be going through. As I push off from this wall and join all those now walking by three by three in answer to the tolling bells, and see the reason they are ringing or for whom the bells are tolling for at this moment.

Nothing else seems to matter as I look up towards that tree-lined ridge, where many have found their final resting place and the headstones stand like sentinels, that are just markers that are of no use to those who rest there and just cheer the living. With both of us in the past having played with fire and not been burned as I head to that ridge, knowing I will find you there and finding I need to touch the Earth with you and the one who is there. Needing you by my side to cross those bridges that will be encountered.

As we make our way together on down the line carrying with us those things we can keep and leave behind, which are all the love and memories that have been kept and held within us like faded photographs. For you have been the one who has been there through all sorts of times and stood there for me, as I find myself wondering as I make my way to where you stand waiting if I have disappointed you or let you down? And will our love endure every time and what is thrown at us and not just those perfect times?

Still hearing the bells being rung from the high steeples of the Cathedral, as I head to that high green tree-shrouded ridge where you stand looking over all below. And seeing you there in that white cotton top you wear and can almost see you watching me through your eyes. And remembering that phone call you made and what was said being something I carry with me always, as I now am following that trail that’s used for the processions that come here. Wondering if you have come here for forgiveness or to touch the earth laying the ghosts to rest?

Or to have me be here with you and to do the same and to do what we should together or as one? So hold me close and when I get there where you stand, and we once had angels watching over us. But now it’s just us that need to watch over each other to keep those demons from knocking at the door, as I keep on moving forward to reach the crest of that ridge where you stand waiting for me. There up high on cemetery ridge with open arms and heart.

Copyright August 2008 – 21: Timberwolf International LTD.

Get Free access to these great features

  • Post in the Forum
  • Write your own Stories
  • Contact members
  • Comment on Stories