Faeries have been seen all over the world. In forests, jungles, even lawns, and backyards. Wherever there are flowers, trees, vines, and tall grass there you'll find them. The tall wild grass seems to be their favorite though.
Yes they love being amongst the blooms, and flitting about neon signs. They skim over ponds, and hover between the limbs of trees. However the sea of green grass the wild grass has a special attraction for them.
If you wish to meet a faerie go there. To the wide fields of the countryside. Step softly, and whisper your greetings for they are easily startled. It would be good if you bought a gift.
Perhaps hard candy or a shard of bright colored glass. Even better a small flute or tiny toy harmonica. These they especially prize for they love music. Bright colors, candy, and music.
Now when you see them don't be surprised. Because at first glance they seem to be children. Graceful children with wise bejeweled eyes, and shimmering wings to match. Though very young in appearance they may be old, much older that you,..or your mother or grandmother. Legend says that faeries live as long as trees, maybe as long as the mountains.
Seeming frail they actually have the strength of ten men. Because of their years, and strength. Faeries have the wisdom to live in love, even innocence. The innocence of age. The gentleness of experience. These beings sing, play, dance, and dream both day, and night.
Joy, and a deep reverence for life, all life is their way. Kindness is to them what breathing is to us. True they are not Angels. They have faults, make mistakes even, though rarely, commit sin. They are fallible, and mortal, but are slightly holier than humans.
There are legends, stories told by soldiers through the ages. Tales of wounded, and lost soldiers laying helpless in jungles or forests. Stories have been told by these men about seeing "them" the shining ones. All of man's wars have tales of winged children made of light that save the wounded, and maimed.
These bright beings would seek out, and find the forsaken, and heal them. Wounded survivors from the wars of the Pharaohs to the tank battles in Iraq have sworn that kindly, winged sprites had saved them.
With smiles, and gentle touching's their wounds healed. Shattered limbs were made whole, burns vanished. All pain, and terror would lift, and fade as like the passing of a storm. Then in a moment. In a blink of a whisper they'd vanish in a blur, and shimmer of rainbows.
Leaving only a faint breath of their songs.
No comments:
Post a Comment