A Fantasy

I’ve traveled this road since time began, heading east in search of the light. Light begins in the east or so they say, cannot prove it by me though. It is dark, always dark driving along life’s road, daylight never seems to break through. Oh...a false dawn occurs from time to time and my eyes are often blinded by the traffic’s glare, but never does the day seem clear. Aimless driving, endless search for the light, that indefinable reason for existence, carries me on. I’ve met a lot of people on this journey, most are nameless, faceless, forms that care not for me, as I care not for them. Some hitchhike along for a while but all they want is to take...not share. Often I feel invisible alone in a crowd, no one listens, no one has time, each to their own agenda and tolerate me as long as I satisfy their needs and when they’ve taken it all they depart, leaving me empty, driving alone, in darkness once again, heading East where the sun rises…or so they say. So I head out on that eastern road, rain striking the windshield, wipers keeping a steady rhythm, talking to me, comforting me, trying to clear my vision. I am alone again with my thoughts, the hum of the tires, listening to the radio, rock and roll, the "Blues", my mind swaying to the rhythm, my lips mouthing the lyrics in perfect harmony, singing of lost love and exquisite joy, funny how both extremes provide solace, one ringing true while the other giving hope... "Me, my baby and the Blues...", sing it Charlie!... Mountain peaks disappear as the prairies loom ahead, expanses which in daylight appear as limitless, but in the dark reveal a void. No sensation of movement, no feeling of motion, nothing to gauge your progress, only the hypnotic line at the road’s center. Harmonica in hand I wail a crying lament as I picture a singer pouring her heart out to an airy audience. I’m weaving back and forth to the pulse of her voice. I’ve seen this vision before but her back is to me I view no face. An ethereal spirit crossing space to comfort me in my loneliest hours, sharing a tune sharing a dance and fading away at the end of the number. Hands gripping the wheel I search for that spirit. Across this empty land the grass gives way to lakes and forest. The road seems light, the sun appears, not as a blot on the horizon but bursting in its glory radiating in all directions. Dusk later settles to be replaced by stars turning night into day and yet it is too bright for mere stars. Was it like this for the magi? Following a star not knowing where it leads only that they will see something magical and profound when it halts. I turn from this highway of despair tracing a deceptive path through the trees hidden from view but beckoning me, calling me to the edge of a pretty lake with a dancing vision...oblivious to my presence. I watch in silence from the edge of the clearing. She is smiling a radiance that lights the night, the moon and stars pale by comparison. As she dances, fireflies swirl with her as sparks that fly from a campfire carried on the gentle breeze. The wind sings through the pines, a loon calls softly with water lapping a rhythm at the shore. The world is in harmony with her voice and I want to contribute. Harmonica in hand I catch the mood of the night, not a crying wail as in the past, but joyful surrender. She twirls round and round her breasts high and long legs flashing from beneath her skirt laughing, a feast for my eyes…then she stops…. She has spied me watching her private dance, but I don’t feel the need to run, to hide, to disappear, as I have done before something feels different. Cautiously, I advance slowly moth-like to the light, circling as her eyes trace my steps, my lips caressing the harmonica to continue my song my eyes on hers, awaiting the negative but receiving only positive emanations from her presence. Her eyes twinkle as the stars with a smile that bursts in a wave of brilliance. She reaches out with her arms, drawing my hands to hers just touching on finger tips but the hold is so strong as we lean back and swing each other round and round, my song replaced by nature and this dizzying dance. My music is long forgotten now replaced by the singing of two hearts. Her eyes hold me in a trance-like state while we are drawn together naturally, as the sea reaches out to the moon’s advance. She draws near, to me without hesitation, without doubt, of free will. I feel the crush of her body as it forms into mine the electric brush of her lips as my arms circle her waist drawing her near, as though we have known each other forever in tune with our rhythms. The dance is slower now...as one...no longer alone. Senses exploding in a kaleidoscope of color and sound, lost is the world as we find each other and explore. The stuff of dreams, a fantasy held dear to the heart, of happiness ever after. I have dreamed this vision many times, longed for this ending with aching that has at times been overpowering filling me with sadness and questioning the direction of this life. But one must have these dreams to survive amid the chaos of this life. For without dreams and fantasy the soul is empty, there is no purpose to guide you along your journey, you might as well be dead. (c)  Jim    July 2001Written July 1st, 2001 © on Nov 20 2001 04:23 PM PST   other