Willow Lake Press
Mystic Music WANDERINGS - Tale of Autumn
by Brane Koren © 2002
Wanderings R ighted high on a rock with hands leaning on a cane, I inhale the last breath of gloaming, soft and deep. Warm colours of a sinking rainbow fondle my heart, merging into mysterious, indescribable affection. Emotion of a pleasant pain.

Glorious sight stirs up a spark of wistfulness, of remembrance. The sacred flame of life...

"Oh, will I ever see them again?"- I whisper, heaving a sigh.

The wet fingers of a breeze unravel my grizzled hair, carrying bitter flavours of mellow forests...

And while I stare at the distance, night silently conquers the day, unfolding its veil over mottled mountain.

Far on the horizon flame dies... presage... silence... dark...

Mellow hands of mother nature clasp in a prayer for a wounded son...

* * * * *

While sitting close to the fireplace with eyes aimed at the blaze, I drink the last ewer of wine. A warm crackling sound disturbs the silence. I approach the table, restraining the time with a gesture of my hand. A candle lights upon letters that form words, that make thoughts, and thoughts a man, once they become a deed. And so in a circle. A magic circle...

And while I deeply meditate, in a dark corner of the room appears a flash. Dazzled eyes discern a shape of a sword.

My shining sword... and I remember...

I remember days of wanderings. I remember a rebel in a world of injustice and fake titles. I remember a stony road that I was obliged to walk on. I remember the sign which I engraved in stone, so long ago. I also remember her melting touch.

And last words... and tears....

Smell of wax restrains me back from strayed thoughts.

The candle melts away... loneliness...sorrow...

I take a pipe with wounded hand, recalling the song of youth. I sense a touch of cordial tunes. And now I see distant sights of past. I see all the beloved places, and beloved people. Far, far away... a cold breath slits through my chest. The flute slips down from my hand. The pain tires out my body...I desist....

And of a sudden, gentle sounds unfold over forlorn paths of my golden kingdom, silent and enchanting. In disbelief I prick my ears. The mystical tune woos my heart... I collect my strength...

And as if Iím under a spell, Iím throwing my words into fire, taking the coat and stepping outside;

The wind salutes me with the smell of winter. The roundish face of the moon silently smiles on the sky...

...while I follow the soft melody, Iím taking one more look behind:

In the distance my home grieves. On the other side of the window the light disappears. The flame burns out, while smoke above hovel dispels. Remain darkness and cold... mountain and stars... and mist.....

Thoughtful I enter the world of enchanted woods. The veils of smoke float amongst the trees. Tears fall down from crowns.

All around. Sound becomes louder... I halt... with blurred eyes I eavesdrop the depths. I sink and search...

Through a pale whiteness of haze the secret appears. Smouldering. And finally I realize...

It is time to go... I lose my breath ... tiredness... pain...

While cold wind embraces my soul, Iím touching an oak tree for the last time: "Farewell my friend... maybe somewhere... someday." I shed a tear . I close my eyes .

And... feel... life .... breathes ...... out .............

Gone with the wind.

For aye.

.. And far away- beyond mountains, beyond seas - the sign remains ...

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