Some Other World

Somwhere, everything holds life.

In this place, the trees never get cut, flowers always bloom and grass never dies. In the winter, life may not be as green and vibrant, but it is still there, pulsing through the snow and soil.

Close your eyes and just imagine!

You are barefoot, stepping lightly through the soft grass that whisps about your ankles. All around you are trees, tall and majestic, reaching towards the sky with their leafy arms. Golden sunlight pours in through the shimmering canopy above your head, its warm rays gently brushing your skin. A cool breeze plays through the branches. All is silent, but for the gentle swishing of leaves and the sound of earth beneath your feet.

Then, in the distance, you hear a cheerful sound --- a gurgling brook. As you draw closer, you hear one bird, then two, then an entire chorus of beautiful melodies. Now you are quite close. The bushes become ferns, the grass turns to moss. Then you slowly part the low branches of a tree and find a magical place. Clear, crystal water bubbles gleefully over smooth dark stones and soft green moss. Tiny silver and blue fish dart about and colorful dragonflies hum just above the surface. The scene is disturbed, but just for a moment, as a large toad croaks and splashes into the sparkling water.

You soon spy a rabbit on the opposite shore, nibbling on clover. Moments later, a graceful doe steps cautiously to the edge of the brook, lowers her lovely head, and drinks from the cool water. When her thirst is quenched, she steps calmly through the water and disappears into the woods beside you. She passes so close you can hear her breathe.

Slowly, gently, you slip out of the ferns and step to the water's edge. Nothing changes. The birds keep on singing, the frogs keep on croaking, and the dragonflies keep on buzzing. Only the rabbit seems to care. He wiggles his nose, straightens up on his hind legs, and watches you with his tiny bright eyes. You kneel beside the brook, scoop a handful of glittering water to your lips, and drink. The water is cool and delicious and you savor every drop.

Slowly you stand. The rabbit wiggles his nose again, hops once, looks at you again, then dashes off. A playful smile dances about your lips and you give chase. Splashing through the water, leaping across a fallen log, then bounding through a grassy meadow, you pursue your furry new friend. Through the trees the two of you run, over rocks and under branches. When suddenly, the rabbit zig-zags and is gone.

But you don't mind. You stand still, transfixed by the new sight before you. A great stone temple rises from the grassy knoll, its polished white walls covered in vines. There are markings above the doorway, but you cannot read them. The birds are still singing, but you hear another song as well. You cannot discern the words, but the voice is feminine and beautiful, as if from another world. Slowly and carefully you ascend the stone steps toward the dark doorway. You don't even look back as you cross the threshold, drawn as you are by the song. A faint blue glow lights your way as you descend into the cold, dark cavern. The stone floor is cracked and overgrown, but the walls are sturdy and you feel no fear. Finally, you come to a sharp turn and you peek slowly around the corner.

A beautiful maiden, bathed in a soft blue glow, sits upon a large stone, staring at some unknown scene. Her hair is dark and falls in soft curls onto her fair shoulders and down her back. Out of her back stand two glossy, shimmering wings. Her pale dress is long and flowing, fitted to her slender form and tattered at the hem. Her fingers pluck gracefully at a small pearl harp and she sings. More beautiful than anything else, is her face. You cannot see her eyes, for they are closed, but her features are exquisite. Her lips, her nose, her porcelein cheeks --- all more beautiful than any maiden you have ever seen. You soak in the scene as the last notes trickle through the air.

Then slowly, the faery turns toward you and opens her eyes. Her lovely purple eyes are deep wells of sadness and mourning, and they shimmer with unshed tears. She gazes at you and you stare back, unmoving, for an eternity. Then you realize... she is fading right before your eyes! Her sad eyes seem to be begging you for help, but you find you cannot move or speak.

Suddenly, you leap forward, your chains broken! But it is too late. The damsel is gone. In the stone are carved these words:

"We fade for we are forgotten."

The faerie's harp lies abandoned and you gently pick it up from the chilly water beside the stone. You whisper a solemn promise, "I will not forget".

Then you awake. You look around the familiar, yet strangely foreign bedroom. Outside the window you hear horns honking and see busy people, cars, and concrete. It was all a dream.

Then you look down at an item clutched tightly within your fingers. It is a small pearl harp encrusted with deep purple gems.

Will you forget?