About the Poem
This tale was begun in the very forest the greater part of this story takes place in. It was a small nature reserve in the beautiful St. Croix river valley, truly a place of great wonder. It was with the inspiration of that place and the image of my own girlfriend that this was written.
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Little Drops Of Heaven
|by Abrahm Simons|
The sunlight seeped through the canopy to fall on the needle-strewn floor in a pattern of dappled gold. Birds poured forth their hearts as they flitted among emerald clad boughs. Their boisterous tune was harmonized by the aquatic melody of a glittering brook.
To my senses the scene melded into a beautiful whole. I reveled in every moment I spent within the forest. The forest gave me feeling of ease, it had the ambiance of a sanctuary. Towering bark columns and the joyous hymnal of an avian and liquid choir accentuated the feeling of a goddess-shaped cathedral.
For myself the stream was enough to become lost within. I often found my thoughts drifting as I watched twinkling crystal flow by. A glass serpent that insinuated itself amid the trees that mesmerized me with myriad glittering eyes and a mercurial serenade.
The time flew by quickly and before my mind could register the fact the gold seeped from the forest and the forest took on a somber air. The trees whispered behind green sleeves and groaned quietly. The birds had all grown quiet, and the forest felt deserted without their presence: even the stream felt hushed.
The rain came then, sifting softly down through the trees, a soft spring rain. It fell upon me and before long I was thoroughly drenched. I began to walk the beaten path in the direction of home, but was stopped by a sound: a soft clear note that flowed up to me through the rhythm of the rain.
I paused and forced my attentions outward. I heard the singer again, for now I knew it was indeed a voice, and began to force my way through the undergrowth towards it. I pushed aside a fern and stared at the tinkling length of stream before me.
There standing in the cool water was a graceful form, she wore a crown of mahogany hair and birch silver clothing of a flowing style. She danced within the crystal waters, making nary a splash while the rain seemed to twist and swathe her in a glimmering haze.
She turned then and looked into my awestruck eyes. She smiled then, a brilliant smile that melted my knees. Before I could make a move though, she began to sing in her clear voice.
The song bound me fast, wrapping me in cords of sound. I could feel its tendrils moving within me, touching my soul and warming me. The tendrils reached my heart, and caressed it tenderly, then withdrew slowly. The woman smiled her beguiling smile and laughed in silver chimes, then turned and disappeared into the greenery as if she were a tree herself.
An unearthly silence descended upon the forest broken only by the patter of raindrops. I stood for quite a while in slack-jawed wonder before I began to sense my surroundings again. It was now I noticed that the ground was rippling with concentric rings when the rain came down. I realized then where I was, not in the real world, but in a dream.
The forest shattered, melting into blackness, and yet I could still hear the rain. I opened my eyes with a disenchanted sigh that was quickly stifled. Silhouetted in the window was a feminine form, her hair gleaming gold in the lamplight. I walked over to her and slid my arm around her waist. She tilted back her head and as I was drowning in those emerald seas, I knew I was dreaming in reality.