She stood on the hill
At the head of the path, by the gate
It trailed to the valley
The city
And to life
Kissing his cheek at first light
Breathing him in
Holding him tight
Then releasing
She leaned heavily against it’s simple wooden posts
Determined not to let him see her wilt or crumble
The house behind her seemed to watch also
As a silent loyal guardian
It too had nurtured him…..it had nurtured many….
She watched the man walk down the path leading to his future
As she held back the scream with a small blue handkerchief over her trembling mouth that longed to release a scream or a plea or a moan of fear of desperation of grief.
Fear for the young man, tested and taunted her
But she held space for him
Trying to block back the violent visions that kept appearing in her minds eye,
Choosing instead to trust the man before her
Knowing that the visions of the vulnerable child she so desperately clung to, were only memories.
He turned and waved to her smiling
Youth and excitement emanating from him
He had not allowed his eagerness to forget her.
He watched as she immediately stood and blew him kisses wildly
Waving her handkerchief furiously, as they also wiped abundant tears of sadness, longing, fear ….grief.
He knew she needed this
And he felt her gratitude and love from where he stood
Satisfaction gilding his ripe determination
Moving forward (as he should)
Down the winding path
To the City
His future
And opportunity
In the knowledge
He was loved.
Little Wren 