She was the wizard’s candle, bright as a brand new dawn. Floating through the doorway, a breath of summer breeze—hers was the realm of magic woven into the tapestry of my life.
He was the woodsman’s ax, sharp as clever could be. Sitting ‘round the table—stories spun into fantastic laughs—his was the gift of guidance, a gentle hand on my shoulder.
Together they were a pair of birds nestled beneath my eaves. When their time came to abandon the nest, they left some feathers for me to collect—keys to the heavens where they spent their days, reminders we each have our time and place. Now, free from the bonds of this earthly gaze, they fly like angels through the skies of my mind.
weathervane
pointed at the sunset
a boy’s bright eyes
