The Soul Speaks In Flowers, The Colour Of Stars

The duality of order and chaos is revealed when a couple flees for their lives...

J

ust two bodies, only two. These were the only vestiges where the cold had not yet taken its hold. The cold tendrils of winter had however already started exploring them, feeling, touching, its dead unfeeling fingers stroking them tenderly. The rhythmic pumping of two hearts, pushing warm blood through areas of their bodies where the chill had momentarily wrapped its wispy reach around - that was the only thing keeping them going, keeping them moving. The bleak landscape was framed by dark and desolate remnants of trees long dead. The man had his arm around the woman, their mouths incapable of speech. Mile after mile they trudged. The footsteps they leave behind soon filling with winter’s tears, leaving no impression, no alibi that they were ever there. The wolves had begun following them. Ethereal breath hanging in the air for seconds as the sniff the unrelenting scenery, sensing the warmth of flesh & flood, & the reprieve it can claim from the claws of the winter’s wrath. They circle, they snarl. Unsure of what to make of these intruders to their domain. But their caution was quickly making way for the overpowering hunger. The thrill of the kill, the nourishment that comes few & far between. The snapping of nightmarish jaws, the snapping of bone. These instincts were soon to overpower the wolves. Their eyes glowed yellow in the pale moon, their eyes burnt with hunger. The man & woman scarcely took note. Their bodies had now reached a point where it was driven only by the purest of evolutionary needs, that of survival. Forcing step to follow step they carried on, barely aware of the naked need of the creatures around them. They were far beyond the point of running. The cold had finally taken control of parts of them that had - up to this point - successfully kept winter’s breath at bay. They were nearly at the top of the mountain, just a bit further. Scouting wolves ahead were howling their rage & hunger at the rest of the pack. NOW, KILL, KILL, RIP, TEAR, SHRED, FEED, FEED, FEED!!!!

Exhausted, they involuntarily slumped to the ground. Her body spread across the face of the white carpet like a child making a snow-angel. In the darkest of despair he clung to the one thing that kept him awake. Kept him fighting.

It was her.

He looked at her angelic face - flawless even now, his eyes wide and unbelieving. His blue gaze followed the contours of her suddenly peaceful face, drinking in every line and every shadow. A single stray sunbeam had come to rest on her dusky complexion and rendered it in a luminous glow, much as he’d imagine it would look framed by the full moon. Her lips were slightly parted, and the tiny idea of a smile gave him the impression that she might be dreaming in the midst of her extreme exhaustion. She had royal cheekbones, high although soft and sensuous but regal in every way. Her eyes were striking, even in the fact that they were closed - a slight almond shape giving an oriental impression and his mind’s eye re-conjured up an image of how they look open - dark and clear and smiling. This was a vision of perfection framed by her midnight crown of raven-black hair streaked with copper, a slight curl evident due to the wet and clammy air. He realised that he had not taken a breath since the moment they had gone down - and all energy had been spent. It was as if his whole body had just focused on drinking in the image of the woman next to him. If Helen of Troy’s face could launch a thousand ships and start a war, then hers could launch ten thousand in retaliation and end all wars for a thousand years. She was Aphrodite, Venus, Sita and Mary.

Her lips moved. He leaned closer to listen.

The soul speaks in flowers, the colour of stars

As if his thoughts and sense of wonderment had penetrated her fatigued and sleeping visage, she stirred almost imperceptibly - although if he had to be perfectly honest, the wild growls and the gnashing of teeth of the gaining wolves the more likely reason. That honesty would somehow shatter this spell that he needed to continue for just a while longer. She woke. Her eyes even more striking than how he had remembered them in his mind.

The spell had broken. Hand-in-hand they rose, their eyes finding each other and offering comfort as they inched ahead. He looked over his shoulder and saw the flashing grey shapes of chaos, frost-spears of breath the wolves exhaled in pursuit of their prey.

Then finally the mountainous slope gave away, & below them, the golden rays of the sun flooded the landscape. Daylight clung to every object it could find, wrapping it in the orange of a sun absent for months. The light was reluctant to leave any foothold in which the dark & cold could lie in hiding, planning to ambush the landscape once more. There were no shadows, only the sun, the life.

The wolves screamed in abject agony as the man & woman stepped over the boundary into the light. This was not their world, not their hunting ground. The old gods of chaos & destruction were left the ruins of a world awaking from slumber. In pain they pulled away from the warmth, the frost that collected in their fur hissing & melting in the rays of this bright new world. They turned on each other; winter will take its pound of flesh. Teeth & claws flashed as wolf devoured wolf, until finally the strongest remained, feasting on what was his pack. As the rules of chaos dictates, entropy had reclaimed its prize.

Still the man and the woman paid no attention, sinking to the ground. Their bodies folded around each other as they drunk in the revitalisation that the season of light has finally brought to a crippled world. There was a tender kiss as cracked lips searched for one another. Their world had been restored. Hope. Life.

But in one of the shadows where the sun was unable to reach, the cold lay in furs. Weakened. Hurt. But it would lick its wounds. Repair itself, get stronger. Its time will come again. So it has been foretold, the natural state of all things leans toward chaos. Soon. Soon.