The Moors


The morning was cold and misty, like dragon's breath.  It was the winter solstice.  I rubbed my arms to keep warm and started treading softly, heeding a faint call.

The sun had not yet peeped over the horizon.  Silvery rose shades, like that of a debutant dress revealing her first flush of pre-morning light, filled the sky with a certain kind of mystery.

The sound of rippling water broke the peaceful silence.  I stood alone feeling my name being beckoned.  The misty hands were pulling my spirit further into the moors.  A sense of joy and happiness awakened my soul, was this a dream?

A gentle breeze lifted my hair like a mother's delicate hands.  The grass was damp with dew, stretching across dried heather like silvery cobwebs. It felt like peeping into paradise. I felt free, like the only person upon earth.  Suddenly that feeling took hold of my spirit, so that I was overawed by nature's beauty. Reaching far up into the sky, as if I was touching the heavens I whispered.  "This is where I must stay"

The sunlight awakening, caught the delicate dew and glistened.  I couldn't leave this enchanting haven, but I knew I had to, it was the only way.  Starting to run, the moors called, beckoned, longingly.  Nothing was peaceful anymore.  I didn't stop running until home. Were those moors only a finite memory, a sanctuary of no return?

(c) Jtamsin


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