The Spirit of the Wind

June 27, 2008
By
Do I remember them? How long ago? I don't remember...

Children they both were. A girl and a boy? I don't remember...

Nice to me they were. Awed by me they were. Loved me they did. Why? I don't remember...

Perhaps it was a dream. But do I dream? I don't remember...

I see flames. Is that a memory? Would I dream of flames? Voices. Loud voices that don't make sense to me. Who are they? I don't remember...

There is a tightening in my chest. My heart? Do I have a heart? It hurts. More and more each day. What is day? I don't remember...

Will I remember? Will the boy and girl return if they were ever truly real? Will the pain in my chest ever go away? Will these echoes of sadness I hear ever leave? Will the flames? I don't know...

Wait! I see trees. Beautiful, leafy trees that wave in a soft but sticky breeze. Cool tasting grass, that glistens with morning dew. And flowers. Little yellow ones the children braid in my hair. Is this a memory? But it's so pleasant. Are memories pleasant? I don't know...

We run across the green fields, the children on my back, my hooves flying freely. They laugh, so happy, so peaceful. I was as well. Why? I don't know...

I take them to the river. They splash around in it joyfully, the little silver fishes tickling their toes as I call them from the deep for some merriment. The children throw water at me and I laugh with them. Why is this part of me happy and the other part sad? I don't know...

We lay out to dry, the smoldering sun beating down on us and the bees buzzing busily toward the little yellow flowers upon the banks and in my hair. We are happy. But after a while I begin to sense something. Yes. I feel something at the backs of the children's minds. Bothering them, nagging like a hungry mosquito. What is it? They tell me. And I listen. They ask me. And I agree. Why? I don't know...

I follow them. Away from the fields and the forest, the rivers and the lakes, to a place dark and dismal, unhappy like the ghostly faces turning to watch us as we pass. I ask to leave, but they plead for me to stay. I stay. Why? I don't know...

They lead me to a building, lifeless leaves strewn across the hard streets beneath me. The place is dead, yet I follow on for the children's sake. As the children open the groaning double doors, a hush falls among those yelling across at each other. 'Why are they yelling?' I ask them. They do not answer. They stare at me. Why? I don't know...

Serenity fills the room as I step further in. The shouting has completely ended. Smiles tough their lips. The children are happy. They call to a man at the end of the building. He answers. A speech follows. I do not listen. Do not remember...

Peace. That is what they agree, these men dressed so finely. Do they understand peace? I do not ask. The children thank me, love me, tell me I could never have done anything else so wonderful for them. 'What had I done?' I wondered. They asked me to stay for ever and ever. I agreed. Why? I don't know...

But what of the flames? How did they come to be? The children never told me, never explained what had happened. How long was it before it came about? A year, two years, ten? The children. Were they older? I had not seen them in a long time. Would I? I don't know...

Wait! I hear something. Voices. Shouting. Why? They had not shouted in a long time. Because of me... Still there. Raised in what? I couldn't tell. They were coming closer and closer. Like the flames. I cried out as the doors burst open. The children. Shouting, tears streaming down their faces. Telling me to do something. I couldn't understand over the roar. Shadowy faces. Running toward us. The children point outside and I bound through the flames. I see things not meant to be seen. Flashing lengths of metal twisting cruelly in the flame's blood red light. Demons jumping from every corner, their mouths grinning with gleeful grimness. They shout in voices, loud angry voices, voices that are familiar to me for I was the one who had supposedly ended them. But what do they say? I don't know...

The children cry for me to run. I run. to the woods I go, far away from the shouting, the flames, and the sweet children. Over the river, across the fields. I keep running, just as they bade me to do. Faster and faster I go until I am beating the Wind who chases playfully after me. It doesn't understand what I have seen. 'No one,' I thought, 'could understand.' They agreed on peace the children had said. But it was a deception. Did they understand peace? No shouting, no flames. Why, then, had this happened? I don't know...

I continue running, far, fast, away. The Wind gives up and I am alone. So alone. No twinkling Stars, no bright Moon to comfort me, all shrouded by the smoke. Tears flow like rivers from my eyes. I cry out for my forests, my streams, my home. Faintly, the Stars are calling, telling me I am welcome with them in their velvety fields of darkness and solitude. But no, I do not answer. The Earth then calls, welcoming me into her warm, remote depths. Yet still I do not answer. The rivers and seas, pleading with me to feed them with my endless tears. No answer. Why do I not? I don't know...

Then the Wind. And I agree. Why? Suddenly, the Earth is no longer part of me. My tears have stopped flowing. And the Stars are quiet. Silently I glide over hills, through the trees, across the rivers and seas, and between the stars. I feel nothing, am nothing, remember nothing. To everywhere I travel, caressing, tangling, portending with my wailing voice what the children had hoped for. Yet I am forgotten, dreamed of, spoken of, desired, but still I am never applied. Why? I don't know...

Do I finally remember? Yes...





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