THE COTTAGE OF CONCURRENCE

Silence tiptoed through the old cottage picking up remnants of the stories told, like cobweb wisps of memories, gathered in long whispers and clinging to the weathered skin that still gives the appearance of living to these frail and empty bones.

It was a long wait, and longer still as the snow came down in a fury, announcing winter’s long anticipated arrival. But she stayed focused in her determination to come to him, prepared to enter the gauntlet and celebrate her triumphant victory, claiming her rightful place at his side.

The hours ticked by slowly but she did not agonize over the constraints of time. Time had lost its power over her along with the illusion of distance and now she would become the conquering force within the reality that was hers.

She held fast to the visions of forever that spurred her onward. She would lay her gifts at his feet and bid him come, to finally join hands with her, “do not linger to marvel at worthless things, look at me, I give you the greatest gift in my realm - follow me”.

The warmth of her presence lay open the path to their longing, melted the coldness that had tried in vain to prevent their fateful union, gave them hope… the bleak and barren landscape, the violent howling winds, suddenly transformed – a hush fell upon the land and delicate crystal blessings cascaded gently down from the heavens to illuminate their course homeward.

No, she would not lay down her destiny and surrender. She has found the key to her bliss and she has journeyed to this place to humbly receive it – his gift to her… love.

Their reward – One.

M Teresa Clayton