logastellus
“I acknowledge the four elements. Water in the North; incense to recognize the air in the East; flowers for the earth in the South; a candle for light from the West. It helps me keep perspective.”
Say What You Mean.
The girl got to the airport with little more than her bag filled with a few slices of the banana bread she loved so much. The boy with green eyes and curly hair had cut her half the loaf. He served it to her in a small wooden box he had taped closed.
‘Keep it under your jacket, from the rain. You don’t want it to get soggy.’
The girl had wanted to lean across the counter and kiss his wet mouth. She refrained, for there was a line waiting to order their coffees, and she, in a red jacket speaking English, stood out too much.
A kiss would have been the beginning of something, and she was leaving in three hours.
The boy smiled. There were many ways to say goodbye, and the girl collected her parcel and hot drink in the familiar black thermos and left the small cafe.
It was raining heavily outside, and she tucked the box under her rubber as asked. The loaf was warm and she felt the heat against her body. Her pants were too tight and she cursed her curves before she remembered to send her body a blessing.
There were times when the ideas in her head were not hers, and she had to work a little bit to push them out.
She pressed gently as she did at the dogs and cats who followed her home when she walked the path through the woods. Dogs without collars and cats who roamed liked to swing beneath the trees, sit on the benches, and listen to people's stories. The girl never said anything in the woods- she preferred the silence- and thought that this was why the animals followed her through the woods.
Animals, like the girl, said so much without verbal dialogue. She thought perhaps they heard her speaking with her heart as she ambled by and, enjoying what they felt, thought to come along. The girl enjoyed the company, though she could not let them in her home. She’d hold up a hand upon arrival before she opened the heavy door with her small key, and sometimes the animals understood and would stay still. Other times, they tried to nose their way in, and this is when the girl would use her forearm to press gently, until the animal understood that this was where they would depart.
Her neighbor, a tall gentleman with translucent glasses and an aura that rippled pink, asked her why she never gave the dogs a treat and the cats a bit of milk. The girl thought on this for a few weeks before she answered; it had never occurred to her to feed the animals. She went to the man's house one day and knocked on the door. He answered in a fuzzy brown robe and asked her for a cup of tea.
Sitting down with a cup that blossomed honey in her hands, the girl told the man that feeding the animals would be inappropriate. The man frowned a little as she said it; he had often fed the cats and dogs. The girl had seen him many times, setting small ceramic dishes on the pavement filled with water and food. He did not ask any more questions, though the girl felt to explain herself.
‘It would not be authentic for me to feed them because I did not feel the need to feed them. You did, and so the action is organic. I feel connected to the animals on my walk. I send them love and brush their fur with my hands. That is my offering, the company.’
The man did not say anything in response and the two sipped their tea quietly. When her cup was empty, the girl said she must go and thanked the man for his kindness. The man did not respond.
That evening, the girl felt guilt in her pelvis. She recoiled where she lay. She felt badly for not having thought to feed the animals and for the man for feeling upset for the animals. She sat in the guilt and sent the animal's heart and the man her heart. Green light rippled from her chest to her palms and then out into the ether, where it would touch those she brought into her mind through conscious thought.
As she breathed and sent the light, the guilt dissolved. The animals needed more than food to nourish their bodies. A cup of milk, a glass of tea, a plate of biscuits; all delicious gifts and just as necessary as a palm rubbing a belly or a warm smile that surfaced from the heart.
The girl’s guilt shifted into something else as she sat in her living room, spreading the light. The thought arrived was for the man; he felt he needed to feed the animals. Need and want were not the same thing. The intention was very unique. The girl wanted to give the cats and dogs love; the man felt he had to feed them. Duty versus desire; did one outwit the other?
When the girl was seated on the plane, she opened her box of banana loaf and broke off a chunk to eat. Sunrise slipped over the machinery and the girl watched the golden ball peep over the green hills as she ate her treat. She thought of the man. She knew how he received the paper on his cement stoop.
Today, unlike many days, he would open his door to discover the morning paper with a wrapped parcel containing the chocolate bread.
Photo source.
