Within the Picket Fences

It was such a lovely little realm, this charming, tiny bit of green that dwelt within the fences.  We entered through a swinging gate beneath a rose covered arbor.  Here and there some delicate, white Angel Lace sprouted from the grass, as if the Lord had wanted but a touch of this and a touch of that to decorate this place.  There was a white marble bench and on the bench two sparrows carved of stone pecked at imaginary seeds.  And in the green, green grass, a simply marker marked a simple grave.  The name, it was Elizabeth Ann.  And my grandfather bowed his head to pray.  I inched ever closer as he prayed and then beside him, when he reached his hand behind him to find mine.

We stood silently for oh so long.  We cried a bit but not for long.  And then he took me in his arms and held me into his heart.  I could feel it beat; I could feel him breathe; I could feel him cry; I could feel him love me with all he had.

He then dropped to one knee and then he held me at arms length, his eyes gazing into mine.  And with holy whispers so filled with love that they sounded like bells of joy, he said, "You must now journey on to your own time.  But always remember.  But always remember."

My thoughts were filled with reluctance but my soul gave me permission, even courage, to turn and depart by way of the gate.  For many steps i was fearful to look back, but eventually I did.  And I all I saw were the white picket fences and the Queen Elizabeth roses intertwined throughout it all.

The road ahead was filled with cool November sunshine, with but a faint trace of winter in the distance.  And so I hurried on, i hurried on so that I might not be tempted to turn back.

Up ahead I heard a barking dog, and then I saw a running dog, closer ever closer to me.  The sweet sadness within my heart began to catch hold of some surprising joy.  it was Blue-Eyes returning to me but from the place where I was going.  There were paws upon my shoulders and licks upon face, and we spend a good half-hour romping together in that place.

But then Blue-Eyes, he broke away to beckon me to travel on.  And that day we did until the night did slowly settle.  And as it did, the full moonlight rose in front of us, when I imagined it should be behind us.  "We must have circled," I figured.  It was but a few more feet that I heard the laughter of a river, a broad river dancing over the shallows.  And the reflection of the moon set before Blue-Eyes and me a watery path of stones, broad white stones awash in the mountain waters on their way back to the sea.

Blue-Eyes showed me the way, and we crossed ever so carefully, but cross we did the broad and flowing river.  And as we were about to reach the other, I realized that we had found our way back to the Chateauguay.  For down the way, made silhouettes by the moon, the line of six oaks appeared.

"Blue-Eyes, we've made it home." 

The End

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