The moor already wears its autumn veil, and, soon, we will be home. I know what you will say, when we walk up the hill, towards the place we have chosen for our retreat.
“Look! He’s waiting for us, he’s there, can you see him?”
But I know that only you can see him, that he ever appears only for you, through the ancient mist of long gone times.
For you are his beloved, the one he lost, when the Earth was young, and I, poor mortal, was but dust in a distant star.
And, as always, I will say:
“Yes, I can see him, bless our guardian, the watcher over our fragile spirits…”
Very nice piece.
LikeLike
Asalways, there is a lyrical depth to your writing,
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. This is stunning. I love the mood of it, the mystery, and the eloquence. Beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: Watcher ~ Sisyphus #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo
That is a beautiful story 💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this. So simple and beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, this is cool. Love the tone, the words, the simple and deep story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: Photo prompt round-up: Watcher #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo