The figure motioned for me to come ahead and I hesitated. The person shifted to one side a little and I saw a weathered face straining into a smile and He motioned again, and I began to walk forward. As I drew closer and could see the man better, he looked vaguely familiar in a dream memory kind of way. I looked at him and tried to make some connection with who I saw and something deep in my memories. I saw a man, aged, yet ageless, skin bronzed by the Sun and time. Piercing blue-gray eyes sparkled beneath a shock of speckled gray and brown hair. The wrinkles around his eyes and lips were as much from smiling as they were from years and age. His clothes were old, but neat and clean, and the style was from another time. He reached out a hand, fingers curled a little from years of working with the land. In his extended hand was a yellow rose and he spoke softly as one would speak in the great cathedrals of the world. He handed me the rose and said, “Welcome. Welcome to the Garden.” And with that he motioned with his hand to the trees around us and said, “The Grandmothers told me you were coming.” I silently took note that he looked at the trees with the same love in his eyes that I remembered in my Grandmother’s eyes. "THE GARDEN" c.e.spence
Posted on: Wed, 28 Aug 2013 14:30:01 +0000
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