“Dancing each night with the sound of the banshees…”
Once upon a time, in the early hours of the first day of spring, a tree took root in a beautiful garden. That year, the prettiest wild flowers decided to grow there as a mark of respect and to add a touch of colour.
The young tree was full of promise, right from his early years, passers by would stop and admire his young leaves, tender, green and unspoiled they were. Magnificent, it was, but nobody seemed to know how it got there? After all, his fellow citizens looked pretty dull next to him.
An apple tree was his closest neighbour and even with his jealously red apples, like the blush of a virgin’s cheek, his general appearance was still quite sickly in comparison to the young tree.
His early adolescent years were flourished with compliments. Anyone who was anyone seems to talk about him “have you seen his roots?”
Strong and buried deep in the ground but still, the mystery of his background grew stronger.
Even the apple tree fell under the spell of his beauty, and with time, jealousy turned into secret admiration. After all, for a long time he had been the focus and joy of the garden, when each year, peoples were delighted by his fruits, picking each one with a laugh. Nowadays, nobody seemed to care much about them from the second their eyes fell on the young tree.
And still no one seemed to know from where he came nor his origin.
Solid it looks but flexible it was…
As discover in his twenty years of existence, when one night a thunderstorm decided to give his most prestigious performance right at the heart of the garden.
And the wind came with great strength, the apple tree starting to feel shaky was no longer able to hold of his secret; his golden leaves ripe from his being fell to the feet of his neighbour.
The young tree was left with no alternative but to read these long love letters, written through the years, with a touch of embarrassment, being far from aware of such feelings.
But soon his attention was to be taken again by the storm, whom this time was raging, more than ever, that night. The whole garden was to witness the most tempestuous dance of all, as dancing the wind of the north his mood was and it seem to take great delight to do so with the young tree.
At first with a gentle breeze, shy ballerina setting foot on the stage.
But soon the trunk was bending in the most erotic manner; his flamboyant leaves flirting with the dying grass.
That evening, the moon pushed the moody clouds to shower the all scene with her most delicate dusky light.
Even the wild flowers were stunned by such beauty, all except the apple tree of which the seed of jalousie had took hold of his being, his old grounded roots, could already hear the whispers of the storm, telling the love story of the wind and the young tree. A tale which it was certainly not ready to listen to, even less to accept but, for the time being forced to witness!
How dare such element have the presumption to come uninvited and steal his secret love?
The young tree it is true, was far from being aware of such ill feelings, too busy enjoying himself after all, it had never felt such pleasure in a lifetime, somehow this night was making sense to him…
…The call of nature.
From ballet to tango, shaking from one side to the other, backward and forward and back again. The wind, then, started to slow down, with the first rays of the morning sun, which was himself not prepared to miss the end of the show. And it is with gold in his eyes and the most glorious valse, that it prepared his goodbye.
“It is time for me to go on my journey, but, beautiful young tree, I want you to know, that I will be back for you and in the meantime, I will carry with me the scent of your being to remind me of this glorious night. Do not cry nor miss me, as I will return to carry the seed of this loving night…”
The apple tree kept very quiet but his eyes fed with anger. Fury was already burning his chest. As for the young tree, after such pleasure, fell into a peaceful sleep, forgetful of the golden leaves scattered around him, loving words broken for eternity!
The apple tree decided to take his revenge straight away and choose to put all his energy into the growth of one branch, growing towards the young tree.
Weeks passed by, the rest of his branches started to dry up. Apples grew thinner, his whole self looked sickly except for that only branch…
After the first month, a beautiful flower started to flourish and fast it became a green apple. How extraordinary it seemed, that the rest of the tree was quickly fading away.
The apple grew faster and faster, bigger and bigger, just above the top of the young tree, like a sun of life.
At first so splendid, so colourful, ever so more appetising. But it size became unreal. The menacing shadow of his deed became larger on mother earth.
Whenever the young tree would inquire after his health, a chilling silence would answer him. The apple look so poorly at this stage, that it could only inspire pity and disgust. The trunk had become a twisted figure reflecting, somehow, his bitter feelings.
Sometimes letters of the wind would come to the young tree in the forms of warm breezes; his gorgeous green leaves would shake with epileptic tremors. Whisperings that the wind of the north would be back soon, to take him to a new dance, far away in the land of mystery.
“One more season and I will be there my love…”
Time had come for the apple tree’s final act of deed. In the early hours of the dying summer, he let the gigantic apple fell, breaking one of the young tree branches on it is course to come resting between two of his fresh roots.
And there the apple lay, beautiful and still…
Soon to the horror and disgust of the wild flowers, the most hideous worm emerged. Slowly crawling from the apple, menacing and slimy, the worm began to eat at the trunk of the young tree, ignoring his tears and cries of pain.
It took two long days for the revolting creature to get inside. All that was left was a small black hole.
As he felt his life slipping away, the apple tree, in a weak murmur, decided to confess his rage;
“You have ignored my love for the futile wind of the north and knowing my feelings, chose to dance your insolence! Therefore it is with great delight, that I will watch you fading away with the apple of my sin!
Sin it is, but not as painful and humiliating as the reflection to which you have subjected me…
You are condemned to feel sorrow to the end, and mine too, as I die also; I have given my last drop of essence to create my evil toward you. My eye will not close peacefully until I see your last leaves fall around you motionless and we will see if you dance with such fervour and impudence, when the wind of the north come to find your dead body!”
Days and night pass, and still the hideous creature ate away from the inside.
One by one, the young tree leaves fell to the ground, crippled corpses, once proud and magnificent. All except one who held on ferociously.
The apple tree at this stage was in extreme agony himself but the desire of revenge was such that he would not die until he witnessed the last breath of his victim.
One night, to his dismay, with the sweet murmur of the breeze, he heard the return of the wind. When the last cloud had passed by the moon and the whole scenery was lit up by silver light, the wind of the north finally approached.
In a weak whisper, the young tree told him what had happened.
Great, was the wind anger and deafening his rasp. Thunder flashed in the blackened sky and from his order, lightning fell upon the apple tree who was so hideously dry of feelings, that within minutes, he was embraced by fire. Red was the flame, licking each branch with demonic faces. Loud was the scream of his pain, into the air until disappearing in the silent darkness…
“Your love for me has kept you alive, my dearest” whisper the wind. “ …And with this last leaf which I take from your delicate arm, I will carry you through this mystery land, where long ago, I carried the leaf, taken from the bosom of your mother. Therefore do not feel pain again, rejoice in the fact that your own will reborn from the ashes of sin. But my love, before life runs through that last leaf, I want to give you my last dance”
The force of the wind became stronger and the earth began to shake with humility from such strength. Suddenly like a trapped prince, the young tree felt his dying body lift into the air. And in the most dignified fashion, the wind gave his most prestigious dance, turning to the tumult of emotions, feeling his kisses, dancing to the howl of his loving words.
But time came to say goodbye, and again with the first rays of the sun, the young tree felt his last leaf taken from him, his remain fell into the ocean knowing that somewhere, life will carry on…
Much later were the young green leaf was left to a fertile ground, another tree took root.
His beauty and grace did not take long to be recognised. However, upon his twenty birthdays, a peculiar phenomenon took place.
From nowhere a single apple began to grow. It looked so beautiful and appetising to Adam and Eve….
…But that a whole different story.
It is in pain that sometimes the most nurturing love born…...
It was a sunny afternoon, Sunday if I recall. I was sitting on the edge of a cliff, admiring the scenery. Like listening to classical music, my head was filled with the hysterical howls of the sea, when my eyes felt upon him and his upon my bosom!
“Would you be so kind as to stop and engage in conversation with me?”
He gave me a quick glance, undressing my body. The heat of his youth raping my flesh, I could see his soul…
“Could I steal a kiss from you?”
“I see, you are the kind of fast lover and slow talker!”
“Let me rephrase my question…
It would be delightful to engage in conversation. The subject doesn’t really matter, it is not after all, the knowledge of a study but the passion and understanding of it which make it interesting, as most topics seem to reach the same conclusion.
It is true also, that with such logic, silence would take place but as we know, what could be duller than complete holiness!
Words therefore have a purely simple purpose of aesthetic, useless syllables put together for a specific reason, a means to an end, in that situation to get your attention.
As a matter of fact, I can see that I have yours, finally….
It would be more honest to say that I have been sitting on the edge of this cliff as long as I can remember. Waiting for this minute. But your mind was too busy with meaningless thoughts to take notice of me. That is until today….
Do you believe in destiny? Maybe fate?
It is often, when the soul decides to halt the course of errand searching that it finally finds what it has been looking for. I stop looking for you long ago.
Instead I kept still in the middle of the tornado, knowing and finding great peace there, taking a glimpse at your passing shadow tormented by the storm, and as god is my witness, the sky suddenly believed the truth of my words…
You may sit next to me and enjoy such a delightful view.
I believe you are about to see a completely different picture of what might have been reality…
Look into the waves. Can you see their souls gorging in lusty pleasures?
Or perhaps the painting of the fading sun, licking the clouds with the last remains of his flaming tongue?
May be more to your fancy?
Is that your arm I feel around my waist?
Patience my boy, time will come soon enough to embrace me with such fervour. Do not rush the second, as each one passing by takes you closer to from where you came.
But instead, fill your whole being with the essence of it, taste each flower, poisonous or delectable nectar.
How many flowers have you smelled recently?
Could you tell me the tale of the yellow rose?
How honey-like it feels in sorrowful memory, reviving the sense of the dying, as the blossom opens, the eyes of a loved one close…
But do not let my oppressing words confuse you; pretty sentences they are. Each one a pearl, indeed making a beautiful necklace, which I admit, is exhilarating to place around your neck;
As a token of my love for you….
The sunset is nearly over, the purple shadow about to take place. You have been a good listener but I still sense the urge in you to press your lips against mine.
Strawberry their taste, pink likes the young raspberry.
So let it be, offer you what you have been waiting for and give you my kiss….”
The young man fell from the cliff with a single scream! His head bursting against the rock like a mature cherry crushed between the clumsy fingers of a child.
The last sparkle of light reflected on the obscure water as his body was swallowed into the sea….