The Quest

I wrote this for Angie a long time back, so it is a bit of a retread, but I try and surprise her every once in a while. Maybe this showing up in a different place and time will put a smile on her face. I wrote a couple of things for her inspired by the fact that God made Eve just for Adam, and he definitly made Angie just for me. I love you Angie!

The Quest

A valley stretches out below surrounded with snow crested peaks like jewels on the crown of a princess. The pungent smell of the fir trees rise on the warm breeze from below, their dark green bows painting the grey and white of the mountain’s lofty slopes like mosaics on a palace wall. A sea of scarlet and saffron stretches to the depths of the valley below; where the trees parade there exquisite attire. The deer bound across meadows of sage, gold and umber. Rabbits disappear into the emerald undergrowth as if they were fairies in a child’s tale. How can I help but to descend into the depths of the beauty before me? Plunging into the twilight of the forest, exhilaration over takes me as the elk bugle and a symphony of birds joins the chorus. The sun sends out streamers of blazing orange across the sapphire sky, and pierces the forest darkness with shafts of pure gold. An eerie fear sneaks up on me as the air comes alive with the cry of a distant wolf. Stumbling, running and struggling ever forward I grow weary. My soul yearns for something of which I can’t put into words. My heart aches for unknown places. Then like bells on Christmas morning, I hear water playing across stones, dancing its way across the stage before me in a ballet like none ever seen. I yearn for just one taste of the water’s sweet coolness. The coolness of the stream soothes my parched throat. My mind wanders to the source. If I could only interrupt its journey but for a moment, and inquire of the source of its great joy. Where is this coming from? Why does the water draw me like the sirens song? Enchanted I find myself lying beneath the arching limbs of the forest above, craving their protection and strength. The soft warmth of the moss covered bank caresses my face, as I rest my head in its cradling arms. The earthy smells of the forest floor lilt across my face on their way to greet the angels in the heavens. Sleep overtakes me, and I dream of my quest. The fantasies form one after another romancing and intoxicating my mind, drawing me into their spell. Whether I can ever reach my goal, I don’t know. Who can say what that the goal of my journey is even real? But in a place like this, how can I ever abandon the quest. The quest has become a part of me, a quest for the secret garden of Eve’s soul.