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(IWWC) Monarch

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posted on Jul, 3 2009 @ 10:01 PM
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Not to be considered as a contest submission

 




1.

Maya lay prone on the grassy hillside, her chin cupped in both hands as she stared at the green chrysalis with its ring of golden dots suspended from the milkweed.

Her eyes looked beyond the miniature exoskeleton inches from her nose and saw instead the butterfly that would soon emerge to dry its wings in the warm early summer air. She mused about how it would soon visit thousands of brilliant blooms, bobbing and weaving in a seemingly aimless flight across the landscape. A delightful dancing pixie, delicate, yet strong, determined and yet fragile, it reminded Maya of herself.

She smiled at the thought and wondered if her fading childhood would mirror the life of this glorious insect. Would she be able to journey across a continent like this wonder of nature, surviving high winds and downpours, predators and unseen dangers of all sorts?

Her village lay on the valley floor below, hidden by a thick forest of oak, tulip trees and maple now fully dressed in bright new green leaf. Her father had worked at the sawmill until it had suddenly been closed. Now the once bustling town was growing silent as people moved away, one family after the other, and she knew that the clock was ticking for her family too.

Maya closed her eyes, and, as she had done with the butterfly, saw herself caught in the fickle winds of fate. In her mind, she formed her father's face oddly surrounded by an aura of the darkest purple, and noted the hopelessness written in the corners of his mouth, his eyes. Suddenly a flood of love poured from her heart. Palpable as water, it flowed into the face of the man from whom so much had been given to her. The kindness and care was returned a hundredfold in one moment of time... a mere instant and yet so powerful that the hillside grasses rustled unseen in the stream of its passage.

Her body, so frail and thin, suddenly was filled with a strange new power and Maya's eyes snapped open at the strength and shock of it. Quickly she rose, staring down at the tiny pupa trembling as it dangled from the plant. What had happened? Did the butterfly give her a gift as it processed through its metamorphosis? Instinctively she sent a heartfelt thank you and, with only a moment of hesitation, ran down the hill toward her home.

Her young legs hardly touched the ground as she bolted through yards, across empty streets, the flowered gardens of her own front yard, dad's old pickup truck in the gravelled driveway and finally, almost out of breath, up the steps to the back porch. Barging through the kitchen screen door, she saw her father sitting at the table, a cup of tea halfway to his mouth. His eyes turned at her explosive entrance and pursed lips, ready for a sip, changed to an immediate smile. His eyes sparkled with affection, and, setting the steaming cup carefully down, turned to her with open arms.

"Maya," he said, "I was just thinking of you, pumpkin!" A great toothy grin spread across his face as she flew into his embrace and hugged him.

"Dad, I...", she started to say, but her father cut her off.

"Maya, it's amazing, but I think everything is going to be fine. I just know it. It just hit me like a hammer, but I know it!"

She looked into his eyes and saw the joy in them. The promise of a new beginning and a burgeoning hope renewed.

"Yes, dad, I know." she said and kissed his cheek. Her thoughts turned once again to the butterfly in its tiny castle and the gift that had been given her. Her mother, still at work at the grocery store, would be next for this wonder, she thought. Then the grocer. Then the grouchy old neighbour two houses down. Then the RCMP officers at the police station, and on and on and on until she fills each soul with that rushing river of love.

2.

The cold winds of late fall promise snow now, and the monarchs have long ago begun their journey from Northern Ontario to Mexico.

Maya sits at her computer and chats with her friends around the world. Her parents are in the woods with several other townfolk for the deer hunt and she knows that sacrifices need to be made if they are to survive. In this cold climate, meat is not an option, it's a necessity. The Chippewa families from the reservation lands nearby are helping those still left in the town and agreements had been worked out to mutual benefit. No longer did any mistrust darken minds and a renewed friendship had blossomed. Neigbour trusted neighbour and no door was closed against another.

Tapping at the keys, she reflected on how the town had changed. Empty houses were being bought by people who could never have afforded them before. New families were bringing life back where all hope was once lost. The mill still stood empty and the sound of chainsaws were replaced by axes and handsaws. The summer's harvest of backyard gardens filled shelves with preserves and refrigerators powered by wind turbines would sustain the rest. Electricity was a luxury to be used sparingly, but most things still worked just fine.

On the screen in front of her, she wrote a message to a friend in Holland:

Maya: You must concentrate on the entirety of it. From larvae to caterpillar, from caterpillar to pupa and from pupa to butterfly. Think of it's whole life and what it must do. Then close your eyes and see it in your mind.

Antonia: Does it have to be a butterfly?

Maya: No... any living animal will do. Just try to connect with it, whatever it is, and 'see' its whole life, its purpose and what it means to you.

Antonia: I can use my puppy?

Maya: Of course.
But you have to really try to understand your puppy. Close your eyes and see it when it is grown up and what it will give you in return for your love and affection.

Antonia: Yes, I'll try.

Maya: You'll know when the deep indigo colours start to flow behind your closed eyelids. When you see that, you must send your feelings of love to those you want to change into happy people.

Antonia: It works?

Maya: Yes, dear Antonia, it does. Close your eyes right now and I'll send you some.

Antonia: OK

(1 minute of silence passes)

Antonia: OMG!!! OMG!!!! OMG!!!




posted on Jul, 4 2009 @ 02:01 AM
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Heh, i really enjoyed this... thanks for the great read
it should i say "enlightened" my mood today as i was feeling down ^^



posted on Jul, 4 2009 @ 08:26 AM
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reply to post by allsop
 


Thanks. I was going for the positive spin on this, mostly because I wanted to show that a struggle can be won in ways other than force of arms. While writing this, I had in my mind an image of Ghandi (Ben Kingsley, the movie of the same name) sitting on the banks of a great river and realizing that the British could be beaten by non-violence and a pinch of salt.



[edit on 4/7/09 by masqua]



posted on Jul, 4 2009 @ 02:20 PM
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Nicely written. I could definitely envision the imagery you used. Not my style of literature nor do I agree at all with the indigo thing, but you are a good writer.



posted on Jul, 5 2009 @ 08:57 PM
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Originally posted by masqua
She smiled at the thought and wondered if her fading childhood would mirror the life of this glorious insect. Would she be able to journey across a continent like this wonder of nature, surviving high winds and downpours, predators and unseen dangers of all sorts?


Beautiful.

I remember thinking along these lines as a child. It makes me think about survival, the purpose of life, the odd machine of our existence working at little and big layers of our reality. I think you lose most of that perception as you actually start dodging those dangers and predators.

Very well done. Thanks!



posted on Jul, 5 2009 @ 09:54 PM
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"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." Bach.

Beautifully written my friend. For some reason I was expecting something dark and gloomy from you in this contest. I'm glad to have been proven wrong.

The prose were beautiful and most imaginative.

Thank you for sharing this with us,

wupy



posted on Jul, 8 2009 @ 10:44 PM
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reply to post by masqua
 


I find myself at the end believing this could be done. Imagining yourself as a wonderful creature of some sort beginning its life and imagining a triumphant end to its cycles. Until you see the colored lights behind your eyes. Then sending that love to someone else. Awesome!



posted on Jul, 25 2009 @ 01:04 AM
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wow. i cant believe i just read that
. When i was young the same thing happened to me and subsequintly ive lived all over western canada. PROPS to you. Very well written. It touched a vein deep inside.



posted on Aug, 6 2009 @ 01:47 AM
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Very nice well written story my friend
love the imagery and connection between childhood innocence and the purity of nature.



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