Goddess Of The Golden Fields

A short story of a man and a goddess.

The Goddess of the Golden Fields
By: Brent Brown


I awaken to the soothing sensation of millions upon millions of gently swaying golden fingers caressing and slightly tickling my sun warmed face. I find myself lying in a sea of golden wheat, an infinitely blue sky looms overhead, its rotund white clouds soaring lazily without a care in the world. Moments later I arise to my feet and find that these fields stretch out as far as the eye can see.

First I hear her and then my eyes take her in, the Goddess of these golden fields. She calls out to me, her beautiful, haunting voice melting my eardrums as she welcomes me to her vast but lonely sanctuary. She is standing off in the distance but her brilliant features are as clear to me as the wheat that surrounds me. Her long raven black hair flows down her graceful neck and continues its journey well past the arch of her back. Her skin is a magnificent bronze shining in the suns rays. She has soft, supple lips the color of faded red roses and they curve delightfully as she smiles at me. She wears a long golden gown made from the wheat that surrounds me, and soon I realize that it is part of these fields, connected.

She holds out her hand in patient expectation of me as I begin to make my way towards her, drifting, my feet barely touching the ground. I soon realize that no matter how long or far I travel she is always in the distance, and that I cannot and will not reach her. Her smile slowly fades and tears flood her lovely hazel eyes. She tells me she has been waiting for me and that she loves me and always has, and I believe her. I tell her the same. Tears still stream down her elegant face as she asks me how I can love her when I cannot touch or embrace her. I tell her my love isn’t held by the boundaries of the physical realm. I tell her that just knowing that she’s there and loves me too sets my heart at rest. I stand in the warm sun and admire her, my eyes never leaving her.

Many, many years pass by and I begin to gray and wrinkle as my Goddess of the golden fields is the exact same as when I had first awoke in her fields. Soon I become to tired and weak to stand as I collapse into the golden fields. I fall into the familiar grasp of millions upon millions of golden fingers. As I lay tears begin to stream down my wrinkled, sun-beaten face. I ask the Goddess of these golden fields how she can still love me when I’m too old and weak to stand and gaze upon her anymore. She smiles and says to me those same words I spoke to her so many years ago. She told me her love wasn’t held by the boundaries of the physical realm, and that just knowing that I was there and that I loved her was enough. And that was the last thing I ever heard her speak as a smile grew on my face and I drew my last breath. My spirit rose from my body and I drifted in the wind flowing over her face and through her long raven black hair.

Author's Note

Ignore grammatical errors.