I lean against the marble statue

With closed eyes, I slide down her form

‘til I’m sitting – and I listen to the sounds

The sounds of Leafy, our city, our secret.

No more.  But was she ever?

How could children claim an entire city

As their “secret place?”

She’s different now you know – our Leafy

New and modern.  Buildings. Ships. Gardens.

Countless faces I don’t know…

But beneath it all, she’s still the same.

Here at the feet of our Patron Saint, Deikailo

Here…where you gave me that first

Piece of honey cake – still warm. Soft. And spongy.

So light that it melted on my tongue…

I swear I can still smell its sweetness

And see the hopeful look in your eyes.

How I wish we were children

Falling in love for the first time

We were so innocent before, you and I.

Before the drums of war –

Their pounding rhythm wasn’t just in our ears

But in our hearts.

We fought. Together, side by side for years.

I want you to know:

Music still fills the streets

Children dance while young minstrels play

And sing sweetly to their ladies in waiting

And the ladies…their cheeks still blush.

And now – as before – the bell tolls

Announcing the final hours of eventide

So all may return home to sup with their families

And tuck in their children with tales of the Dreamweaver

You remember her, don’t you?

How could I have known she was real?

But you introduced us that night.

How you gained passage to the ethereal realm, I still don’t know,

But on your first night, you came to me.

You took me hand in hand and showed me

The domain of our Gods.

At the end of it, you kissed me

But there was no kiss…I felt nothing –

Though I wanted to!

Your ethereal lips couldn’t

Leave an impression on my corporeal ones,

And that made you cry.  I cried too, in my heart.

Your tears – lit by sunlight

Like so many diamonds floating in air

Touched my heart like nothing had before

Nor will again.

You made me promise I’d return

To our secret place.  I obliged.

But I wasn’t ready, so I made my way back

Here – slowly.

I walked from one city to the next telling all who would hear

Of your braveness, of your prowess in battle

One by one until you became the minstrel’s legend

Until today, at dawn, I finally passed through

The gates of Leafy, just as I promised

And sit here now holding my breath, writing this letter to you.

It’s been four hundred years since you cried and I promised,

Four hundred years and now I’m ready

I spread now your ashes about the feet of the statue and

Prayerfully sing to you

The Song of Deikailo.