Once upon a time, on a Monday morning sun,
There was a blue wind in the west Rootabaga Country,
Blowing on a forest road, where the White Horse Girl
And the Blue Wind Boy met, holding space for unfurling
Mysteries, everything happening as it has to happen,
The White Horse Girl and the Blue Wind Boy lived
In the same neighborhood, he told her all about the wind
Of all winds and how to listen to it when parallel roads meet,
And postal mailboxes wait for the time of delivery,
The early morning wind remembered,
It was a cold day, and mud road,
With the blue morning wind being the king of the forest,
Running on lovers hearts like on white horses,
Each holding a song, afraid of turning it on
And listening to it laud, dancing and singing it loud,
Instead, the blue greedy wind took over their feelings,
Wearing winter gloves in September,
Blowing away shoulder stiffness,
Ready to fight with the invisible enemy,
It gave him airs of mystery in disguise,
He loved the early morning wind, and
The White Horse Girl loved him,
Morning came, he arrived with his song written and music saved on notes
ready to be shared. I was afraid, and my weak heart send
him back home to drop it off, and I prayed;
“Please, God, please, help him change his mind and not come back.
Look how windy’s outside. This is not a nice day for a romantic walk.
This strong wind has no mercy, It will break my heart.”
That was my first voice, while the second voice took the lead;
“ Oh, God give him the strength not change his mind,
Take everything and everyone out of his way,
Make his steps fast and light, like feathers on the sky,
Bring him back on the white horse,
He is my Blue Wind Boy.
It can be windy, and it can rain hard,
There won’t be another day.”
The dog barked without thinking,
I opened the back door and walked through the blue wind,
And saw him returning, with a heroic look on his face,
Light steps. “ He is very brave. He is your hero “
My friendly voice whispering, while the scolding one;
“There isn’t any place left for thinking.
You are weak and lost if you let his eyes meet yours.
No one can save you. Don’t rely on your dog. ”
I feel how waves of warmth traveled across my body
Imploring me, ”lift up your gaze from the ground,”
When cold waves shrink my head pushing down
The fighting in my heart, I feel leaning into someone, a wall or a tree,
Forest trees kept looking at me, and moving their branches;
Come, darling, come, come ...
It was cold, and wet, on that forest road.
We walked side by side searching carefully
For words that haven’t been invented,
The wind was the king playing with my skirt,
Me, holding it tight, both hands wrapped on my legs,
Urging to stay steel and not listen to what I feel;
Love in disguise lures my heart.
I wished that I had another two pairs of arms,
Holding the blouse when the dramatic king
Pulled out the button. I kept him busy with talking,
About how beautiful it was living in the forest.
Spirits were getting high from walking side by side
Up elephant hill, waiting to swallow our desire.
I showed him my sacred space, where the sun touched my face
When I prayed every day. Lovers were coming in secret at night,
Up elephant hill, and burned the fire of love.
He looked at the remnant ashes “ some lovers met here last night ...”
While I too looked at the aches and answered, “ anything could be possible.”
On the right side wild ducks starting to gossip,
In the little pond frogs quaking, letting us know
They were watching every step and listening to every sound,
“ It is a windy day today, and cold.”
My voice softened while moving deeper inside, hiding behind a somber look.
I invited my dark memories of human pain; help me take down the elation.
Despite all my prayers,
The morning was magic in many ways.
I never felt surrendered by so mush readiness,
The singing of the birds was sharper than the blue wind,
The dances of the leaves cheerleading in the air,
Nature was ready for the spectacle to begin,
It was intimidating; leaves had eyes,
Flowers started talking with each other,
My feelings were greedy like squirrels eating now
And storing for later, for the winter, and any bad weather;
My heart was hungry like a wolf, wishful devouring the prey.
I could feel he was looking at me,
I could hear his long face saying,
“I dream of playing with your hair.”
The wind was getting mad, and fearless.
Like a forest fighter, he was ready to protect the garden
And destroy the misbehaving wind caressing my hair.
He pulled harder those gloves in,
Shortly the rain came putting on us a calm shy breeze,
I was prepared for a rainy day, he was ready for the winter snow,
I feel a boothole, on the left side,
“Boothole” was the word I learned from him,
I was happy when he asked, “ is your foot wet.” So naive,
With every careful step, we take time, holding on every breath
Soon the sun smiled again at the end of the road,
No trees standing on our way, me and he,
Without words waiting on the lips,
With sudden humility soft grass flattened on the ground,
When the earth was running high, and hearts flew into the clouds, he Implored; “Look into my eyes?!” the thunderlight starting
A warm rain walking us back at the house.
Faster steps take us, down the hill daffodils open eyes,
When passing by the little pond, the ducks quacked in disappointment,
“What a waste of time.”
“Come I’ll show you where ducks live, swim,
Make love, and quack all day long”
We entered the bright forest meadow, little pond waiting for us,
Naive delight, he like a thief, wrapped his arms around me,
Stealing a kiss, I run away, he comes, tears come,
The blue wind grows furious and strong,
He pulled out his gloves, we hold hands, tears come
In our eyes, tears fall on his burned hand when a child,
We touch our hands, our hands kissed in the rain,
Our hands kissed in the rain, and the rain kissed back our hands;
He can’t burn twice,
I didn't want to burn,
I knew it's my turn,
I did not want to burn,
“I am cold, Let's go inside the house, I’ll make a tea”
I felt for mundane noise and no more mystery,
We walked quite, and soon entered the house that was waiting
for the two lost kids returning from “where the white horses come from
and where the blue winds begin.” The home was friendly and warm,
embracing the blue morning wind, the song, and the kiss of the two lost kids …
“You have a beautifully clean house, Yes, I do”,
Me holding tight on stainless steel ***,
He leaned his back on the kitchen wood, crossing arms
Ready for an adult conversation,
I busy around as if I can’t find the sugar,
I think, if I poured too much water, I found the honey,
It felt as if boiling took forever,
We sat at the table,
Two cups of tea and the white table cloth looking at me,
Looking at him, taking turns listening to words coming slow,
Carefully not disturbing the shinning floor, me crossing my feet
Under my seat, sitting together, and talking to each other he said;
“That's where the blue winds begin,
It would take years and years to ride them on the blue waters”
She listened and said; “ I See! The white horses also come from far away. So far away, farther than the blue waters and the blue sky.”
Everything happened as it had to happen,
The early morning wind believed and remembered,
Where the White Horse Girl and the Blue Wind Boy met
and lived as neighbors, he told her all about the early morning wind,
and the night sky wind, and the wind of the dusk between,
the wind that asked him questions and told him to wait.
The house walls interrupted the conversation;
“ It is late, he has to go home”
He looked into my eyes and asked, "run away with me."
“It is late, you have to go” our heavy bodies stand up
Slow from the table and the cups implored me to go,
I opened the back door, the strong wind was taking him,
The door closed fast, I burst into crying squeezing my knees
in tears of despair. I know this morning has no return.
I see it all,
I received so many messages the day before
The night before, and the morning before,
Even more, signs of delusion appearing at every corner;
The spirits were hiding into the forest,
Sunshine dance and every smiling flower,
Witnessing our first meeting on the blue loonies lake,
Where loons perpetuate their offsprings every new spring.
We were not the only one darling,
Was this nature’s complot or spirits desire
For loons to meet and dance in the blue wind fire
And sing their song of calling love on the blue waters,
Sun shining so bright fooling us into delude,
Despair running on white horses,
I run outside on the forest road, seeing his back and heavy walk slowing
down the blue wind, “I want to go with him where the blue winds begin,
and where the white horses come from.”
The mailbox moves and gives me the letter, I read;
“ To My sweetheart,
You have to wait now for the night sky blue wind, and the blue wind in the dusk, when it is neither night nor day. They will understand. Keep your heart for us while I am gone.With love the Blue Wind Boy”
It's been a while since the White Horse Girl has been waiting for the Night Sky Blue Wind and the blue wind in the dusk to come, ... It came last night
Inspired from real life and Rootabaga Stories By
The White Horse Girl. and
The Blue Wind Boy.