The Gate

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… 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.

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