Stir of Love

Stir of Love

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He has kept it locked for so long. The horror of that night holds the seal tight. The memory riveted, securely barring any possible entry. None can pass. His bitter resolve makes certain none will try.

This is a dark and forbidden place – high-walled, cold and empty. Barren, unyielding, unable to support life… the wasteland of the lost, inhabited by the dead. The gate grown over by the tangle of grief and anger — there is but merciless memory of a once vital presence, of a living breath, of warmth, of joy… forever gone.

Brutal night has fallen long ago, that no sun can penetrate – and the blackness soothes him. He retreats into its depths, embraces its lightless void – hiding, sulking. Shielded from any possibility of further pain or remorse – unfeeling… lifeless.

And yet, a shadow now falls across the threshold. Someone approaches. A being, warm and alive – threatens to breach his hardened fortress.

This lovely, fragile creature can not possibly gain entrance. He will resist, he must! This is wrong, this is trespass! This is cruel betrayal of his lost beloved. He has no right to leave this place of sorrow and step into the light… no right!

But it now seems inevitable; his stronghold is succumbing to this delicate advance. He is vulnerable, and terrified, but it is useless to resist.

Searching with a patient heart, she has found it — the key. Grasped in her loving hand, fingers tenderly enfold it.

Gently, she slides it into the lock, turning with great care. He is defenseless. He feels his heart slowly open, and the long forgotten stir of love, begin to warm his soul.

…

rob kistner © 2007

~ by Image&VerseToo on September 25, 2007.