Of nymph and wolf
Once upon a time, there was
a big desert in the midst of a world. A dry and bitter desert which grew larger
everyday... In this desert lived many creatures. Some simple, everyday creatures, and some
magic ones, with wings filled with colors and splendid voices that filled the air
with a sweet sound and gave hope to the lost wanderers. But there were also some creatures
who, though they were simple, once they found a special creature, they became themselves
magical...
So, in this strange desert there were many small waterholes which were called the outposts
of memory and hope... In these lived the Guardians who were creatures of all kinds
burdened with the responsibility to remember for themselves and the others...To help and
comfort those lucky enough to still have a memory... To offer shelter to those who needed
help... To offer love those who needed love...
In one of these
outposts lived a guardian who was a wolf... A sad wolf... Weary from his struggle and the
knowledge that he could never live a life as he would dream it... Because his life was not
his, but it was a life lived with the people he loved and cared... A life full of sharing,
giving and helping... He was to be a beacon of hope never able to leave his outpost...
Yet, somehow he was happy in his life, although sad ... Happy because some others would
never feel deserted or alone... So he drew sadness from his hapiness and hapiness from his
sadness.
One fine morning, when
he was looking for lost souls he saw something... A creature fair and shiny... She was
fragile and pretty like a snowflake in the first minutes of a
snowfall... A delicate being of outmost beauty who had only litle faith in her soul...
Like all lost souls she was led to think that she was just an ordinary thing... Dull and
plain... Like the sunrise and the sunset, like the rain and the lightning... But the wolf
still had the memory... The memory of how glorious a sunrise was and how breathtaking all
sunsets were... He knew where the rainbow arched after a simple rain and the divine life
that came to this world with the lightning and the voice of gods that spoke with the
thunder...
He knew that nothing was meant to be plain, but
all had a hidden magic in their soul... A magic that made the the trees bloom and the
flowers to smell so fine...The magic that made the colours look bright and clear just like
they did in the morning of a spring day after a soft rain...
She claimed to be a plain lady... Yet, he saw
in her the nymph... A mythical creature that woke from the distant legends and came forth
riding on the back of a unicorn, with a lost song on her lips and flowers woven in her
hair... Radiant and clear, fresh and soft... She took his breath away...
Memories of youth came to him... A youth long
lost and hidden neatly in the depths of his memory... A shiver upon his soul... a
tear in his eyes, a smile on his lips...
He wanted her... Oh great Lord of the wolves,
he wanted her so badly... She was the elixir of his lost youth ... A glimpse of the dream
of freedom he could never have. A touch of the hidden essence of gods he was never meant
to touch in this life...
But it was never meant to be... He was a
wolf... Bold and restless... Vigilant and caring... She was a forbiden dream...
Ambrosia for the gods and nectar for Zeus and not for him...
He could never leave his post to follow her or
chase her... Yet he knew he wanted her... Just for a small touch... A short walk or a
short talk...To make her remember who she was... To teach her how to shine and blind the
others as she did with him... To help her fly away and far carried on the wings of the
eastern winds of hope leading to the gardens of eden or the mythic Valhala with Odin and
Thor...
For him he only wanted to be with her for a
short while... So that his flame could burn so bright, even for a short second... A second
that could make the rest of his life glow... A sweet memory to lighten his burden and make
his effort easier... For what good is our life if not memories of flying happy thoughts
and feelings lived for just a blinks time...
His happy thoughts were few, as few as his
happy occasions... Yet their value was greater than of the bad ones... They all were so
bright that shed their light on all his life... And his moments with her could be
the of the brightest ones... If only they could be... But it couldn't ... So, the WOlf
took his sight from her... The only thing he could do was hide and admire her from far...
At nights when the moon was full and the skies
were clear, he would go to his favorite rock and wonder of the things that might have
been... A bitter smile would come to his face... A sad, yet happy smile... For even the
thought of seeing her was enough to make his nights better...
And then, just to thank her, he would sing...
He would sing for her to the pale Lady of the Moon and the Lord of the stars ... The sad
song of wolves... The song of lost and unlived dreams that are still kept living in their
hearts and are passed to their cubs as a legend of old times...
A legend Of Nymphs and Wolves ...
The Sad WOlf
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Published in Romanian translation, ALTFEL magazine issue no.13 / May 2000