Dec. 11th, 2010

ckocher: (woman close)

Come away oh human child
to the waters and the wild,
with a fairy hand in hand
for the world’s more full of weeping,
than you can understand

I was seven when I first came across the term changeling. My heart leapt when I understood what the word meant. It made so much sense to me. I would sneak outside and lie on my back in the grass, trying to imagine what woodland faeries would look like, what it would be like to slip through the forest, to run along the river with them. To feel like I belonged.

I aged. I stood apart from the rest of my family. I read books, they watched low-brow television. I wrote stories about far-off places while my younger sister snuck out to drink. I learned the constellations and desperately wanted a telescope for Christmas. Instead, I got a subscription to YM Magazine and a gift certificate for acrylic nails.

I did not believe because I could not see
though you came to me in the night
when the dawn seemed forever lost
you showed me your love in the light of the stars

When I was fifteen, I stumbled across a book that talked about honoring nature, of working with the elements, of finding magic in the land and sea and sky.  I felt something inside me shift, then settle. My family went to church on Sunday morning and came home and screamed and fought on Sunday afternoon. I snuck outside and cast circles and prayed to the gods.

I aged again. I was the nerd at school, the one who sang in all the choirs and founded the environmental club. The one who was sometimes so starved for affection that she let boys go farther than she should have. The one who lay awake at night, crying, wondering when the faeries would come and take her home. The one who tried so hard to find something to believe in.

Long as the day in the summer time
Deep as the wine dark sea
I'll keep your heart with mine.
Till you come to me

Years passed. I fell in love. I gathered every bit of courage I could scrape together and left everything behind because I believed in that love. I flew two thousand miles to a place where the woods grow green, to a place where the water and the wild exist. I found the faeries. They asked me what had taken me so long.

I had come home.

******

Another week, another bit of writing, another round of voting. If you enjoyed my entry this week and feel so inclined, I would appreciate your vote to keep me in the game for a while longer. 

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ckocher

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