Acoustic

Cheyenne sang loudly with the small group sitting around the room, as the melodious reverberating sound of an acoustic guitar filled the space around them.

It brought warmth and a deep-seeded joy to hear the sound of Austin’s voice singing as he played. His eyes closed, his head fell back occassionally as he bobbed his head and body in rhythm to the music.

Cheyenne felt the presence of the Spirit stirring in the room as they worshipped in song together.

Tonight was simply a night of reflection and worship, to the glorious sound of an acoustic guitar, with their closest of friends. The fellowship that drew their hearts together like nothing could ever break them apart, was overwhelming in the deepest of ways.

Austin began to slow the tempo and his strum became gentle as the song came to an end, right before the next started.

Nothing in the world brought more delight to Cheyenne than hearing an acoustic guitar fill the expanse of a small room. It was certainly her most favorite sound in all of the world. Nothing could compare to it. Each chord humming in enchanting rhythm with the next, sustained evenly as a sound that pleased the ears, with gentle vibrations she could feel in her chest.

Closing her eyes, taking in the moment, Cheyenne was at peace, and all was right with the world, in a supernatural way that only the presence of God could provide.

In this moment she thanked Him for the guitar, and for music. For the mystical way an acoustic guitar could romance the soul, and for the talent God had given to Austin to master the technique.

And then she praised God from the depths of her soul, taking nothing in the moment for granted, knowing that this time she spent with her dearest of friends and the mingling of the Holy Spirit was special. She hoped the others felt as connected in Spirit as she did.

They spent time together long into the early hours of the night enjoying each others company, singing together, praying for one another, and abiding in love and joy, comforted to know the things that mattered most to their broken hearts were easy to share with one another, in a way that brought healing and hope.

And when they had said goodnight, Cheyenne curled up in bed content, reflecting on the time they had spent together, still filled with peace and joy. Still remembering the enchanting lull of the guitar as Austin played for them.

And it was the sound of the acoustic guitar seered into her memory as she fell asleep.

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Dream, Love.

**This was written over a year ago, and accepted to be published.  It never published, and there is no sign that it will ever be published.  So I finally decided it was time to put it on my blog.The theme was “Write a piece inspired by a song”.

The song I wrote this to was “Alive” by Jose Gonzalez.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tick. Thump. Tick. Thump. Tick. Thump. Tick.

The sound of your heart echoes the rhythm of the clock.

Comforted by the rise and fall of your chest in steady breaths, I know I’m safe.

You work so hard, with very little return. It’s apparent in the way you sigh tonight.

You hesitate. You forget to breathe.

Gently squeezing your hand, I nestle closer. Beside of you, I know it’s going to be okay.

Do you know how much I love you?

Does my love help?

Does it ease your weary mind?

It isn’t fair the way life jades us. Breaking our spirit so we give up chasing fantasies and childhood dreams.

What once brought joy, brings tears.

What once caused your heart to flutter, now leaves your heart broken.

Darkness settled, and it swept away your smile.  It took your soul with it, leaving your voice hollow.

I remember what your laugh used to sound like.

I remember the glint of passion in your eyes.

I miss the warmth of your smile.

My fingers brush gently through your hair as your eyes move under tired lids.

It comforts me to know you’re dreaming. Whatever are you dreaming of?

Am I still in your dreams?

Rushing from one thing to the next leaves you tired and aching, longing just to sit and clear your head.

The stress of the day stops melting away, instead it festers and gnaws at you, dragging you down a lonesome, tired road of anguish.

It shouldn’t be this way. Seeing it manifest causes my heart to break.

What can I do? What does your heart need that I can give?

Can I alleviate the burden long enough to give you rest?

Do you remember how to rest? To give in to the refreshing tides of sleep.

When it seems the money is always needed, or the stack of bills won’t shrink any smaller, and nothing is going your way, reach out and take my hand. It’s not moving from where I left it.

It was promised to you. And you keep it.

I’ll be here when you come home. Rubbing knots from your neck and shoulders, soothing the tenderness with a gentle kiss.

My arms might be frail, but they’re strong enough to hold you when you can’t hold yourself.

Let me carry your burdens. Give me your broken dreams, let me help grow something new. When you lose sight of tomorrow, let me hope for you.

I need you. I need your warmth. I need your life. I need your smile.

Night only lasts for a moment, and then the sun peaks the horizon again. Gradually, as though giving hope to the world, with a dimly lit break of dawn.

It just takes time. To everything, there is a season. This too shall pass.

Remember this when it seems to never end.

When the world caves in and all you hear is seconds ticking away, remember my hope is drawn from the rhythm of your beating heart.

 

Every Day

Every day I come to my wordpress blog, and every day I fail to write.

It’s not that I don’t have words!  I have so many words.
Perhaps it’s that I lost the art of using them?

Writers keep writing what they write, a song about the dark says so.

Why do I stop?  Why have I been incapable of producing the words I so eagerly long to share?

I wish I understood them.

I wish I could make them flow in the ways they used to.

Somewhere along the way, I locked them up where no one could see.  Instead of validation I found emptiness in a greedy world where everyone wants to be heard.

So I silenced my voice.

And then I found those who would oppose me, and force their concepts down my throat without hearing what I would have to say, and I stopped speaking.

The Value we take from one another when we deem ourselves as more important!

The Value we take from one another when we choose to not listen to their heart, and take it for the treasure that it is.

Instead we fume, we rage!  We foam at the mouth, because our school of thought cannot comprehend that of the other.

One of us is free, and gives ourselves away whole-heartedly, and the other is limited by a box that they do not understand controls them, and instead of being honest and true they snuff out the light.

Why do we destroy each other?

Why must the light one sheds be darkened by another?

If someone is shining brightly for all the word to see, is this not enough for Humanity?
Correct them in love.  Not judgement.

Correct them in hope.  Not rage.

Sacrifice your own abysmal failure to love with reckless abandon, instead of screaming at them with your actions to change for the sake of your intolerance.

There is a Truth.  And this Truth is solid and just.  Don’t silence the voices who share the truth because it doesn’t agree with your school of thought.

Watch them, brave and bold, and know they are sharing from the depths of their hearts and soul, to connect all of humanity with a greater good.

 

…..Every day I wait, longingly for the words to return.  They trickle slowly in.
But why do I abandon them?

For Freedom

Little One,

Why do you faint with exhaustion and worry?

Whyever do you doubt when it’s clear I love you?

You have been set Free, so why are you dismayed?  Why so downcast my child?

There is nothing for you to fear or worry over.  It’s finished.  I’ve got you.

Wasting away, locking inside your head, all you do is wither.

You’re so talented.  You’re smart.  You’re funny.  Your amusement in the strange things is how I wired you.  Your joy in the little things is how I created you.

Your heart waits to blossom, and yet you don’t let it.

Rejoice!  You have been made new.

I do not punish you.  You hinder yourself.

Break out of your shell and rejoice.

The newness of Life waits for you to indulge.  Love it.  Run with it.

Trust, little one.  Just trust.

Accept that I know what is best for you, and run with it.

Faet & Fantasy : Gifted?

“Why do you do that?”

Kiena looked up, startled by the intrusion.  The object in front of her shimmering purple for a second, before returning to pale yellow.  Her eyes met Düne, who had been somewhat stand-offish around her.

Kiena looked back at the glowing fishbowl, watching the flowers float serene on the water, “It helps brighten the atmosphere.  With mirth and light.”

“I understand this,” Düne sat down opposite of her, “but why are you doing it?”

“I like gifting people with Joy and mirth.”  She responded quietly.

“It seems to me,” Düne leaned forward, “that you save very little for yourself.”

The object shimmered green and orange, Kiena did not notice, but Düne did.

“I have plenty of joy.”  Her voice was not confident.  In fact she suddenly fell sullen.

Düne smiled knowingly.  He had struck a cord.  “You are not required to be fake, Kiena.  You’re beautiful and unique as you are.  I don’t know what hurt you.  But what I do know is you cannot hide from the heartache.”

A tear escaped, tracing her cheek with a glisten, “Excuse me.”  Wisking her tear quickly away, the faerie leaned over for another fishbowl.

Düne understood the cue and excused himself, watching as Kiena tried to make the next fishbowl glow.

She felt a heavy sadness settle into her stomach.  She could produce hope.  Even if she didn’t always allow herself to feel it.  It was her right.  Nobody else should suffer because she did.

So why must she be so obvious?

Faet & Fantasy : The Dinner

A slow gnawing sadness crept into Kiena’s heart.  She tried to fend the tears, offering a wisp of a smile to everyone she passed.  Hopefully none would pursue and tell her to be festive.

She felt anything but festive.  Even the orbs emitting joy from the tables and hanging decor did not reach her heart to boost the mood.  Why the sadness had settled over her so suddenly, she’d not yet determined.

Crossing the great lawn where they held feasts on the flat of the dell, Kiena hoped to find an empty table near the edge of the crowd.  She scanned quickly to determine which of the empty ones she wanted, feeling a sudden tap at her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” A male voice said.

Kiena turned, baffled to know who might have possibly wanted her attention.  “Yes?” She responded, trying to sound friendly.

It was the same fae she’d shared a brief glance with the day he’d arrived.  “I’m Breigh.  I couldn’t help notice you looking for a seat.”

The slant of his eyes, point of his ears, style of his hair– Kiena felt her heart melt just staring at the face before her.  Flustered, and a bit embarrassed trying not to gawk, Kiena nodded, “I am.  I was going to sit over there.”

He seemed to notice she was staring, “Would you care to join us instead?” His hand stretched out to the table behind him where five others were talking and laughing.

She felt herself blink several times in her surprise to the request, “Sure.” Kiena smiled, walking over to the table with Breigh.

“Friends,” Breigh acknowledged, “this lovely young sprite has agreed to join us.  Your name, mi’lady?”

Blushing, Kiena laughed, “Oh, yes.  How silly of me to forget.  I’m Kiena.”

“Welcome, Kiena!” One of the females exclaimed brightly.  “Come sit.”

The unexpected exuberance of the winter fae at the table energized Kiena and made her forget her sadness for a few moments.  A seat was open next to Breigh and she sat as he introduced his friends around the table starting with the one next to him, and ending with the one next to her.

“Kiena, meet Dax, Jordi, Düne, Loreghlyn, and Capra.”  Breigh pushed her chair in and then took his own seat.

Capra smiled broadly, “Tell us of you, Kiena.”

Kiena wasn’t used to having attention put on her, and she certainly did not wish to have it now.  “I’m not all that interesting, though I enjoy dabbling with growth and emotions.”

“You seemed to emanate sadness earlier.  A lovely fae such as yourself shouldn’t be sad with such fun to be had.”  Dax beamed, drumming his fingers in rhythm on the table, “Do you dance, Kiena?”

Kiena nodded timidly, “I do, I haven’t in some time though.”

“Broken heart.” Jordi winked at her.  His smile gentle, “Figured it out.”

Everyone at the table groaned, as though they hadn’t figured it out first.

“What?  Figured what out?”  Kiena felt her cheeks blush.

Loreghlyn chuckled, “Ignore them, what else do you do, Kiena?”

Lately all Kiena seemed to do was mope.  She tried to think of a pass time she used to enjoy, but none stuck out, “I bless others.  It’s not exciting really.”  The image of Rynn flashed in her mind.

“I find it exciting.”  Dax winked at her again.  He looked at the others, “Imagine the energy it takes to do that all the time.”

Kiena had to admit she’d never considered the amount of energy it took to cheer others up from time to time.

Breigh nudged her arm, “You’re doing it again.”  He leaned in, speaking to just her.

“What?  What am I doing?” Kiena questioned with puzzlement.

“Emanating sadness.  Feast!  Laugh!  Be merry, my friend.  Tonight you have no room at this table for ailments.”  He winked, lifting his cup out so she might clank it with hers.

Kiena smiled sadly, tapping the brim of his cup with hers, her heart a flustered tangle of knots.

The night was fun, and Breigh gave her undivided attention through the whole evening.  The image of his face seared into her memory  and remained as her eyes closed in bed that night, falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Faet & Fantasy : Breigh

Dashing about to complete her work on time, Kiena wasn’t entirely sure how she would still have time to change before the dinner.

Having successfully avoided the Winter Fae after that day, she was now faced with mandatory presence at the welcome dinner.

The colony at Raven’s Dell always had a welcoming dinner, and Kiena generally volunteered to decorate.  Her magic conjured joy, and she would spend countless hours enchanting table decorations to boost the mood.  Every once in a while frustration would show up and discolor the object she was enchanting.  It was tedious expressing joy for so long during mundane tasks.

This year, considering all she felt was melancholy and sadness, she did not volunteer to decorate.  In fact, with the manipulation of atmosphere sure to toy with her mood she felt no inclination to go either.

Sighing heavily, Kiena looked through her wardrobe to figure out what to wear.

The image of the winter fae smiling at her and shaking his head flashed in her memory, causing Kiena to flinch with embarrassment.

After a few moments she was dressed and ready to go.