June 8, 2012

Wildflower by Amy Mauer Jones

Wildflower pulled out a quill. It looked like any ordinary quill. Only, I knew what she was capable of doing once her fingers finished guiding it along the parchment. She began sketching an outline of a cluster of birds with the black ink. There were at least a half a dozen in the flock. 
“With each new life we breathe our souls will migrate toward one another. Our souls will carry us over land and water to be reunited again and again.” she smiled as she replaced her quill and began chanting in her native and mysterious language.
Like magic, the ink evaporated off of the paper and swirled in circles in the air until it found purchase on skin. A cluster of delicate birds were suddenly embedded at the nape of her neck. I felt tingling warmth spread over my chest. When I looked down I found one more imprint engraved over my heart.
I glanced down at the winged figure permanently seared into my skin and smiled.  They would not separate us. We would be one forever because my heart would always belong to Wildflower, in this life and every future life.
Love and hope recycle. What will destiny offer this time? Reconciliation or more despair?


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