Golden
Feather
The
red clay of the slabbed rocks jutted
against the sky, topped by the green
canopy of forest as the thunder of
the waterfall resounded in my ears.
I had journeyed far, and my heart
sought rest, as my feet unerringly
found the path that would bring me
once more to you. I ached to gaze
into your eyes and feel the warmth
of your arms around me. Glancing upwards,
I saw you waving from your tree hut,
and my feelings for you tore at me
like a burden I could not put down.
The wonder in your eyes, so familiar
to me, locked my heart to yours once
again.
"How
have you journeyed, Warrior, that
you go so far to slide past my tree
without stopping before now? Will
you spend a night under my roof, womon?"
Your joy at seeing me was unhidden
in the soft song of your voice as
you greeted me. As you leaned far
over the wooden rails, I felt the
burden upon my heart lift, and I quickly
closed the distance between us.
"I
haven't had time to lay around and be
servant to a gallant warrior, womon,
let alone pleasure victim to your lust."
I delivered the words with harmless
spite and drew pleasure in the subtle
way your eyes crept to my breasts. "Do
I sag, womon?"
"You
are as fine as the day you left, considering
the battles you've walked, sister.
Come, lay your armor aside, and let
me tend the flame with you. We will
walk through old heartstrands and
bring out the youth at our altars
again."
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I
made my way to the bottom of
the ancient oak that held your
small thatched hut above the
river. As I looked over the
edge at the river below I marveled
at your bravery, living so precariously
above the falls. Shaking my
head in wonder, I slipped my
hand into the yoke of the harness
that would carry me up to you.
I felt the tug of the rope and
heard the squeak of the bind
wheel and wished for time to
turn back its hands on us, that
we might see one another as
we once did. And in the night
thereafter, time did reverse
its ways, in a very strange
way.
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I
sat satisfied from our simple meal
of pork and tubers, fresh picked greens
and wild mushrooms. The scent of the
cooking still lingered in the fresh
air that swept in through the open
thatch windows. You sat straddling
your chore stool and washed dishes
there in the open heart of the house,
as my gaze followed your every move.
Each time your hand dipped into the
water my inner longing felt the penetration
of satisfaction.
"I enjoy you, womon." I
spoke easily, in spite of my growing
hunger for you, as you quietly allowed
me to watch your every move.
"Still?"
The question left your lips as a whisper
as you dipped the sea sponge into
the dish vat and leaned toward your
vessel work with new vigor.
Your
hair, kempt in dreaded locks, spilled
about your waist and shoulders, like
huge beaded vines. Each, I knew, held
a spell or a prayer for some other
soul, and I felt drawn to your inner
magic. A trickle of sweat rolled its
way down your taught shoulder and
into the crevice between your breasts.
My mouth watered to taste your scent,
capture the sweat and drink deeply
of your essence.
"Yes,
I can barely breathe for the sight
of you." I whispered, as I leaned
forward and drew a dreadlock into
my hands just to touch you, knowing
it was a movement that caressed your
heart. I spoke gently again, "Do
you still keep the secret?"
Your
hands stopped in mid-rinse as you
reached back into your locked mystery,
pulling forth a dread that had a tiny
bottle attached to it. "It is
here, where you left it. Is that why
you returned?" Your voice betrayed
your hope that it was.
"It
is one reason, sister. I came to stand
ground with my heart before me and
ask you to walk the strand ending
with me." I hadn't meant to be
so blunt; my thoughts had rushed tumbling,
unchecked, from my mouth.
You
stood then and made your way slowly
to me. Your hair swayed with each
step. Your breasts were like full
moons, spilling from your sarong.
Seeing my gaze upon them, you pulled
the sarong to your waist as you approached.
"I am, as I have always been,
a warrior. But for you, and only you,
will I serve as a vessel womon. Since
our first night in the shadow of the
sacred oak trees, it has been so.
I have lain with no other as womon
vessel, can you say the same, warrior?"
I
knew this was a moment of truth between
us. I could not, for the sake of the
life I asked for from you, lie. "I
have lain with others as warrior,
but never as their vessel as I have
for you, sister."
Your
relief was immediate in your expression
as you slung your legs around my waist
and lowered yourself down into my
lap. "Hold me then, Warrior ...hold
me forever."
"I
will, and as my vow, accept my heart
as your shield. We will walk from
here to our webend together."
My heart was full in that moment.
I could not move from the grip of
your legs and I did not want to. As
I gazed into your eyes I felt your
hands linger at my throat as you touched
the golden feather there.
"You
wear the feather I gave you, still."
It was a statement, not a question,
as you lifted the feather from my
shirt. It caught on my dreaded hair
and you gently studied to free it.
"And
you have worn mine sister." I
reached back into your hair and pulled
out the "secret bottle"
as your eyes looked quizzically into
mine.
"You
have worn my feather all these years,"
I said in answer to her unspoken question,
and a smile lifted my lips as I spoke
the contents of the bottle hidden
in your dreads for so long.
"What?"
Your face lit up with a delighted
smile as I took my atheme and split
open the dread lock and brought forth
the tiny bottle. Carefully, I tipped
it over your hand and a beautifully
carved golden feather fell upon your
palm.
"I
told you that you'd see me again,"
I chuckled, as you stared at the feather.
"All
this time, I dared not hope."
Your eyes welled with tears as you
asked, "Why did you not tell
me? I know you told me not to ask
what was in it. You asked me to carry
your secret and not even tell myself
its contents, unless you died, off
in some webstrand. Why did you do
this, not that I am not happy, sister,
but why?" Your eyes locked with
mine and I knew my response needed
to be gentle, and honest.
I
took your hand and placed it upon
my breast, over my heart. "Because
I did not have the strength of heart
to look beyond the flame between us,
sister. I did not have the courage
you have, I felt unworthy of the feather
I wore in your honor. Until I could
walk as your equal, I could not ask
you to walk as my mate. My dearest
sister and heart, you are my best
kept love and secret." She silenced
any further words, as her mouth found
mine, and forgave me for my time of
weakness.
"When
did your hand become so familiar warrior?"
you whispered, as my hand slid up
your thigh and touched your private
lips and parted them. The gush of
moistness that greeted my touch betrayed
the desire that had been building
within you. Your moan was warm against
my neck as you leaned to allow my
fingertips access. I twisted the sarong
about your waist and held you up so
that I could enter you deeply. As
I eased a firm thrust into you, your
back arched and you tilted toward
the taking of you. It wasn't long
before you took the momentum of the
thrusts of my hand and found the pace
that suited your need, grinding your
pelvis down, taking me ever deeper.
"A
Riverwalk could never source me as
you do, Warrior." Your words
were timed to the rhythm of your hips
as they ground down against my hand
and I felt the painful pleasure of
your wetted self against my wrist.
"You
are the river I crave womon, give
me your source and let me feel you
release your flow. It has been too
many webstrands since I felt the clench
of your altar upon my touch. Give
yourself to me, I claim you as my
mate," I commanded, and I thrust
deeper into you as you let out a rippled
scream of acceptance.
Raising
yourself to the claiming and placing
your hands to my face you kissed me
deeply. I heard the wanton murmur
of your response, "I will source
you all the webwalks left to me, Warrior.
That is my vow." Your hips slowed
in their taking of pleasure and you
moaned into my shoulder as your altar
produced a steady stream of spasms
that kept my fingers captive in their
worship of you. I waited patiently
for their release and then slowly
removed my hand.
I
held you close to me and lifted you,
your legs still clenching my waist,
as I carried you to the bed. "Rest
my darling," I murmured. "This
ritual of acceptance has only begun,
and tonight is a full moon. The Goddess
will hear our vows." I laid you
there and felt your body quiver under
my touch as I tucked you in. "I
will be back soon, to hold you in
the aftercare. Take rest, knowing
I have claimed you, and that you will
no longer wait for me to come home.
I am here."
I
made my way to the door and stood
looking at the falls below. "River,
I have walked many webstrands and
planted many novice seedlings in your
heart ...hear me. I stand before you
and ask that you let me go. I am an
elder now and will continue my walk
of the strands in your name. I will
carry my burdens as I have always
done. I ask that you do not call me
forth from this womon. I ask that
I may call this place in her arms
…home."
As
I stood watching the river for her
signs, two Ravens flew along the river
towards me. Flying overhead, they
circled me thrice, and then flew over
the falls together and I lost sight
of them in the mists below.
"That
is how I remember it, womon."
I laid my kiss gently on her as she
lifted her eyes to mine. The flame
of the goddess showed deep in them,
but dimmer and further in than I had
ever seen it. "You would have
me tell you that story a thousand
times my darling. Don't you ever tire
of it?"
"I
live in that story, Warrior, as I
have never lived before. Tell it to
our novices that they may one day
seek what we have held between us.
Speak to them of integrity, of honor
and the value of one another. Tell
them ...that they may know true source
and walk the webstrands honorably."
Her hand fell away from my lips and
rested on her now aged beauty. I held
her one last time to share her dying
breath. So touched was I by her healing
ways in the web that I could not imagine
losing her to death. Even now, years
after our sourcing had claimed our
hearts, we still lingered in the depths
of the heartstrands that linked us.
I knew in truth, that even in death,
she would never leave me.
I
felt and watched her life essence
lift from her body. It lingered in
the room only for a moment. At the
end of the seventh hour of her parting,
I somehow found the strength to open
her burial chest. As I read her last
requests and prayers to the river,
my heart overwhelmed me, as tears
flowed freely down my cheeks. Somehow
I found the strength to wrap her body
in the white sarong. I shaved her
dreads from her head and I named each
name she had written upon them, as
I cast her over the railing of the
thatched hut, into the falls below.
I watched the river embrace her and
carry her to the Mother, and as she
disappeared into the mist, as the
two ravens had done so many years
ago, I finally understood why she
had chosen this spot. With blurred
eyes I allowed myself to read the
final line, her last words to me on
this webstrand ...
"I
give my love a golden feather, that
she may always know her way home to
me. I have no greater fear, than dying
without her kiss upon my lips."
©
Melody Adams ~Splitfeathers
