A simple kindness
Blooms like a warm, glowing dawn,
Monthly Archives: January 2016
A simple kindness
Back on his feet, Matt was turned and checked and dusted until he couldn’t stand it. He pulled away with a shrugging twist of his shoulders. She inspected him with an eagle eye and folded arms. Guiltily, he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Where is your sister?”
“I was looking for you!” he blurted at the same time. “You weren’t in the fields, and I…” He trailed off. She was staring at him like he’d grown another head. Matt’s shoulder’s hunched. It wasn’t his fault. She’d told them to come out to work. He thought of the wind and winced.
“Matt?” the small, hesitant call echoed through the field of equipment and broke the tableau.
“Stay out there, Sarah,” Mom called. “Meet us outside – behind the barn in the back field.” She grabbed Matt’s arm and turned him side ways. “Follow your dad.”
As his dad led them toward the back wall, Matt kept a skeptical eye on the so-called scythe. The combine didn’t have blades like that – it looked like a big metal box with a scoop in front, not a big knife.
Hovering, harmful and heavenly,
Over our souls,
Promising what may (or may not)
Ever come true.
Bright golden sunlight
Makes the yard look like summer.
The warmth is a lie.
They say that life is roses,
And it’s truer than they know.
It takes lots of time and trouble
To make a rosebush grow.
There are bugs that like to eat them.
They’re picky about their soil.
The wrong amount of light or water
Can ruin all your work and toil.
And even if you keep them living,
That doesn’t mean that they will bloom.
A scraggly coil of thorns and leaves
Is a rose without perfume.
But if you spray and snip and fertilize
And fortune favors you.
You may be gifted with some gorgeous blossoms
That last a week or two.
The stalemate continued. The longer he stared, the less I felt any urge to end it.
“How is this possible?” he asked. “The Seekers leave no dead to talk to.” The words came out slowly like someone whose mind was working very hard. I barely noticed once his meaning became clear.
“That’s very true, Light One,” I said softly, closing my eyes with a long breath. “I will never get the chance to speak to my own people from before.”
The Kaihmi had been space travelers for hundreds of years. They kept no graveyards, and there were no monuments to visit. I could speak with strangers from millennia passed, yet once my family crossed over, I would see them only in my memories.
“You regret this?” His tone had gentled, and when I opened my eyes, I caught a hint of sympathy in his gaze. I paused, trying to put my feelings into words that might reach him.
“My people are seekers of new worlds… new understandings.” My gaze turned inward into memories. “Yet our lives have changed and will continue to change. There are many old understandings we have lost – much of our history we have forgotten.” I focused on him once more and willed him to understand. “With no dead to tell us their stories,… they will be lost forever.”