THE PATH
Part 3

~~~ALTERNATIVE~~~

Watching the bird fly off into the tangled woods, she thought about the areas of her life that had always seemed tangled. Some things always seemed on track for her. Any area with rules and structure. Clear cut objectives. Go from here to there, pick up this and that along the way. She could be so successful in those areas. In a way this path was like that. Even though the tests were difficult, and at times she didn’t feel up to the challenges that she faced, it always seemed to her that if she only put one foot in front of the other, stayed on the path, she’d come out okay. The woods here, beyond the path seemed like those areas without rules. No, not without rules. Areas where creativity and commitment to a future that you couldn’t see were called for. Where the way to that future was hidden. Love was like that to her. As much as she’d loved in her life, she had no sense of success there. It always seemed that the love in her heart never made it across to the person she wanted to share with. Life got in the way. Anger, sorrow, busyness, hurt, thoughtlessness. All of these became stumbling blocks to giving and receiving love. No wonder she’d turned away from love. It hurt far too much to be lonely at home when your partner is right there. Easier to be lonely and alone. As she looked up into the tangle, she saw the bird approach again. Saw him fly through the same opening, and come to rest on her leg once more. Again, he brought her a gift, a tiny white flower, perfect in every way. Picking it up from her lap, bringing it’s sweetness to her nose, she drew in the glory of this gift. Suddenly she knew where she’d seen this bird before. The same place that this flower came from. Smiling at the bird, she nodded without uttering a word. She knew what there was to do. Knew this lesson too.

The bird, seeing the look in her eye, trilled an even sweeter melody, lifted off her leg and flew in circles around her head. She sat there grinning at the silly bird. Somehow the obvious joy displayed eased her fears about the next steps she was about to take. Rising from the ground, steeling herself for the next step. Instinctively, she knew that this turn would mark something for her. Uncertain whether it would be a good thing or not, she hoped. She wished she knew. This would be the true test of the gifts found along the path. Trembling, fearing that the gifts belong to the path and not to her, she stepped into the brambles at the edge of the woods. Keeping her eyes lifted to watch the brilliant cardinal as he flitted from tree to tree, she wished she had his ability to soar. The underbrush caught at the soft folds of her skirt as she struggled to find her way. Gathering her skirt up in her arm, holding it up over the tangle of thorns, she watched every step carefully, seeing sharp thorns on some of the branches, she made her way slowly away from the path behind her. Sharp pricks scratched red lines along her legs, while the branches above seemed to clutch at her hair and her arms. A feeling of foreboding stole over her heart. Looking back, it seemed brighter on the trail, seemed as if the air in here clung to her with a heaviness that felt familiar somehow. Only the sight of the cardinal before her seemed to bring any peace to her heart. Yet she couldn’t keep her eye on her brilliant friend. All of her attention was needed to find her way through the roots that wanted to trip her. To stay clear of the branches that tugged at her hair, entwining themselves so quickly in her long tresses. Occasionally she would follow what looked like an opening only to come to a complete impasse. Her friend would sit on a branch, singing an encouraging song, even as she turned back to carefully retrace her steps and find another way. If only she had wings, she would fly to the branch and sit with her new friend.

Wondering what the view looked like from up high, she looked for a tree to climb. Finding a likely tree nearby, she grabbed on to one of the lower branches and shimmied up the trunk. Pulling herself up to sit on the lowest, thickest branch, she saw the cardinal come to sit with her, still singing sweetly. From this spot she could see a way a little way through the trees. She looked down on this tapestry of browns and greens and settled into a hollow where the branch met the trunk of the tree. Might as well rest here for a while. At least there were no thorns here.

Leaning back, letting her eyes close, weary from the struggle with the tangle below, she fell into a soft sleep. As her mind eased away from the day, a new dream took shape in her mind. She could see herself sitting on the branch of this tree, the cardinal perched next to her. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, the cardinal seemed to grow and change shape. Fascinated with the process evolving, she watched delightedly as a new being appeared next to her. He looked at her so tenderly, caressing her face with his eyes. He seemed content to simply sit with her and gaze upon her face, so peaceful in slumber. Tenderly he reached out to touch her cheek, a caress so soft it seemed to be the touch of the merest breeze. In her dream she could understand his thoughts, they seemed to come, unbidden, to her mind. She knew how deeply he loved her, how he’d come to this place in the mountains through his own journey. Taken a different path than she had, yet it was full of the same kinds of lessons that she’d learned. She understood his passion for her, some of his thoughts brought a blush to her sleepy cheeks, warm in the same wanting that lived in her heart. She watched as he brought his lips to hers in the softest kiss she’d ever felt. Watched in wonder as he reached into a bag at his side and drew out the petals of the roses and strewed them over her sleeping form, creating a blanket that covered her in sensuous, soft warmth. The light fragrance enveloping her in his love. Her heart was flooded with love for this man.

Waking from her sleep, stretching out the kinks in her body , she looked out at the tangle below her with a new peace. Trying to fathom this change she looked inside herself for understanding. Remembering her dream, she looked quizzically at the cardinal, resting next to her. He seemed to ignore her unspoken question. Wondering at the fancy of her imagination, she rose to climb down from her perch. Her eye caught sight of something fluttering down from her lap, a bright red amidst the greens and browns of the tangle below.

Climbing down quickly, she stooped to pick up the petal from the forest floor. Soft, silky. The rose petal is out of place here. There are no flowering bushes nearby. Holding it softly in her hand, nodding to her benefactor, she set off once more. Eyes traveling between the vivid red of the cardinal and the deep greens and browns of the tangled roots around her. Softly humming to herself, she noticed a patch of red standing out in the dark colors ahead. She watched as the bird come to rest on a branch of the tree above this tiny spot of color, and she hurried ahead. Reaching the spot, coming to her knees at this place, she reached for the next petal, sent here to guide her. Head bowed, hands and petals resting open on her lap, she contemplated the wonder of her dream. With a growing sense of rightness, she smiled up at the bird, nodding her eagerness to continue, to follow this new way.

Slowly but surely the brambles thinned and her way became easier. She could follow the darting bird quickly, almost at a steady jog. The roots receded and the forest floor was covered in a carpet of soft moss. A tiny stream bubbled nearby giving her cool water to drink as well as a new melody to cheer her heart even more.

Suddenly she realized the edge of the woods was only a few yards away. Drawing to a halt, she stood trembling. The hope in her heart was almost unbearable. Could this be the place she’d sought for so long now? Knees quaking, she walked, almost shyly, to the edge of the woods. Standing behind a large tree at the edge of the field, she gazed in wonder at the sight before her. A long open field, tall grains blowing in the summer sun. The brook by her side flowed down and met a larger stream rushing past the end of the field. Off in the distance stood a tiny yellow cottage, bright and sunny, calling her home. Bright flowers adorned the windowboxes, and the door stood open, invitingly. Dropping to her knees, she felt the tears streaming down her cheeks, brought her hands together and began to give thanks for this gift, the gift of daring. Of owning her talents and wisdoms. Of knowing that they would always be hers.

Gazing on the place that she already knew as home, she thought about making her first real contact with this place. Turning back into the woods, she sought the flowers that grew at the edges of the wild, gathering sweet violets, wild roses and fragrant marigolds. Walking back to the brook, she sat on a rock at the edge of the water and began to remove her clothes. Looking up at the bird who watched her so intently, she merely smiled. She knew she wanted to walk to her home refreshed, ready to offer herself completely. Pulling the clothes from her body, she scrubbed and rinsed the signs of the journey from the soft fabric. Bringing them to rest on a rock hot from the sun, she left them to dry and turned to her own ablutions.

Stepping into the cool water, she settled in to let the stream ease away the soreness and stiffness from her journey. Laying back in the cool waters she felt a healing suffuse through her, easing muscles that had seemed so tired only moments before. Smiling softly, she realized she’d thought they would always be tired. Somehow, she knew differently today. Head back, she let the water soak through her hair, washing away the sweat from the long walk in the woods. Taking a handful of the flowers, she rubbed the petals in her long locks. The sweet scent filled her with a gentleness that she’d never known before. Rising from the water, she took another handful of petals and caressed her body with the scent of the woods that led her here. Sitting on the warm rock, next to her drying clothes, she hummed as her fingers worked through the tangles of her hair. Looking up at the bird, she smiled and patted the rock next to her, inviting him to sit with her in the warmth of the sun.

As she sat, naked on the rock, combing through her hair, humming softly, she watched the bird intently. At first it merely watched her from the tree, intent on her every move. Finishing with her hair, she moved her clothes to a low branch of the tree, where the air and sun could work together. She decided a nap in the warm sun would be perfect. She would arrive at the cottage just before sunset, ready to talk in the quietest, most serene part of the day. She would watch the sunset tonight in the arms of her lover. She curled up in a soft sandy hollow, ground warmed by the strong sun, protected from the cool breezes, she laid down, uncovered, unprotected, and fell into a sweet slumber.

As she drifted off, she realized how right it was to be unprotected now, how unnecessary those walls were to her life with him, to the woman she’d become. One arm under her head, the other hugging her waist, she found her way to the dream that had always guided her once more.

Today, her dream began at the cottage, standing in the doorway looking out into the afternoon sun. Something was different, though she couldn’t tell what it was. The breeze fluttered the leaves in the trees in the front yard, creating a dappled green and blue kaleidoscope that delighted the eyes. Looking out, the tall grasses danced and waved in the warm summer wind. The sound of the brook, babbling and singing seemed to soothe the soul. Suddenly there was a new music in the air, and a brilliant red flashing in and out of the branches of the trees. Whirling and diving about her head, the cardinal sang a song so rich in notes that she had trouble keeping up with it. Laughing heartily at the silliness of her friend, watching as he darted here and there and then lifted high in the sky and started back out across the field again. Flying back and forth, seeming to ask her to follow, she knew she would. Knew that her friend would always steer her right. Long, deep breaths brought in the sweetest air, filling and nurturing the lungs and body, strength and vitality coursing through the veins. Walking out the front door, long, confident strides seemed to eat the ground so quickly. She still couldn’t tell what was so different about this dream. Long steps carried her to the edge of the field, out to the edge of the woods. She saw something fluttering from a branch down a ways, and went to check on what it was. She knew it was her outfit drying in the summer sun, why was she going to check? Approaching the cloth fluttering still, she watched as she reached up to touch the long skirt and soft blouse. Without warning, she knew what was wrong with this dream. She wasn’t the actor in the dream, she was, somehow inside her lover, watching the world as he sees it.

Suddenly shy, she thought of herself, naked, lying in the hollow on the other side of the rock. Somehow, it seemed that her thought was translated to him, his steps began to move in that direction. Walking surely, as if, somehow, he knew she was there, he stood at the edge of the hollow, gazing down at her sleeping form. Lying on her back, one arm up over her head, almost in a gesture of surrender, the other across her waist. He stood so still, fearing to awaken her, his heart pounding. Inside his mind, she could feel the yearning stir in his loins, feel the urge to crawl down beside her and hold her, kiss her slow and gentle. And then long and hard. She felt his urge to ravage her, pull her onto him, share all of his love with her. Felt, just as strongly, his understanding that she needed to come to him. As he turned to walk away, she felt his longing to be known to her, oblivious to the joy that ran triumphal in her heart at his tender caring of her soul, her spirit. She watched as he walked far and wide in the fields, gathering the sweetest posies, fragrant columbines, and tiny, pink, tea roses. Sitting on the still warm rock, the same one where she’d sat only an hour or so ago, he took several strands of his hair and braided a long silken ribbon from them. Using this, he tied a bow around the bouquet, arranging the flowers carefully. She felt his desire to make everything in her life as wonderful as he possibly could. Her heart nearly broke with the tenderness she experienced in his love for her. Walking back to look down on her still sleeping form, she watched silently as he stepped to her side and laid the bouquet at there, traced his finger along her lips, so softly that it felt like the kiss of the wind in her dream. Gazed in wonder at the tenderness in his touch as he lifted a handful of her hair to his face, burying himself in her long, silky tresses. Felt him steel himself to rise and leave her once more, even if it was only for a few hours.

Still deep in her dream, she walked back through the field in his consciousness somehow. Watched as he picked wildflowers, listened to his thoughts of making everything special for her arrival. Listened to his plans for the evening, dinner, long stroll by the stream, moonlight, starshine, perhaps a gentle dance under the large tree in the front yard. Hurrying home, she felt herself separate from him, return to her own waking body as he approached their home.

Stretching, yawning, she felt her hand brush up against the flowers. She blushed furiously as she remembered the passion in his mind, in his body as he gazed at her sleeping form. She lifted the bouquet and covered her face in the flowers so recently held in his hand. Carrying it with her, she walked back to her clothes. Dry now, she dressed slowly, carefully. Imagining herself standing in front of him, she wanted everything perfect. Sitting on the rock in the warm afternoon sun, she braided her hair, setting a few of the blossoms in amongst her plaits. Rising, she set of for her home. She new the way surely, following in the footsteps of her lover.



Thank you for reading this story, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed letting it flow through me. If you have any comments, I'd love to hear them.



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