I see the Queen

As I feel my final days approach, I can not help but think of my first days. How is it that all of the journeys of my years have brought me to this point? My mind has brought myself and many, through the whims of God's pen, making marks on the pages to distract from the world's problems, and create stories to satisfy all senses. My body, however, has taken the ship straight to the fragility of a vase, feeling the cracks, as time races on. It's as if months turned to minutes, and this pain has shifted moments into decades. My only peace, it seems, is to recollect the times, not of comfort, but of wonder. To the time before I realized the connection between dusk and dawn.

I still could not tell from this day, whether or not I was still in my mind. After all I was only a child, when I encountered. . . her.

I didn't even realize I was lost, until the dark had descended on the day. The fears of all the children of the world fell on my shoulders like cold water trickling down my spine, as I could not find a light to reveal where I was. The moon light could barely pierce the trees, and I could not observe the shapes of the fallen leaves, not five paces in front of me. All I could feel was a cloak that veiled me off of waking from this state. As a child, you do not know what the other side of fear looks like, nor does a young boy dare to cross the trenches of the dark to discover what is on that other place. It was at that moment, I could tell all there was about the cape of midnight, and what is underneath her blanket. It was also, in that moment, there was more to be discovered, or rather, more that discovered me.

I walked, desperately looking for the moon to light a path, in hopes I could find the arms of my mother to embrace me. You don't really think of the warmth mothers provide, unless you are in desperate need of it. I was hoping to wake up on her lap, and play with her fingers, once again. T'is far better than that cool dark, wrapping her fingers around your neck and stomach.

My legs could not take the long walks anymore. I sat and cried, curled into a ball, hoping my mother and father would pick me up from this strange wood.

When I couldn't cry anymore, the noise of the wood terrified me, as they were sounds I never heard before, save my father's attempts to sound like the owls, crickets, and rabbits. Never before have I heard midnight's breath. I whaled in the agony of my loneliness, until my lungs could not let out anymore cries. My heart made itself known, pounding into my ears, and into the abyss. I never knew how hard my heart could beat, and for a moment, I thought I was being lifted up from the ground because of it.

The next moment made me contemplate whether or not I had dreamed. The thumps that drove me from the ground, were her footsteps. My feeling of cold turned to warmth as I could feel her breath. I had not realized that the next light I saw were not from the lanterns of my home, but from the torches coming from her eyes. That was all I could see. The glowing windows of her face, so bright, I could see the ground around her. I never felt such bewilderment. I wanted to scream so loud in hopes that it would leave from my whaling, but I was so stiff and so paralyzed from the amazement. It shakes me to this very day. My memory of her presence takes me away from the pain I feel now, turning discomfort into an awe-inspiring calm.

I hid my face from her, praying to wake from this nightmare, shivering in terror. I cried, muttering whatever sounds I could to make myself known to anyone that could hear me, whether that be a stranger or an angel. When silence had settled in between breathes, I looked to see if the beast had gone, but the glimmering of her eyes had not left nor faded. I could not turn away this time, as I locked on to her tremendous gaze. I then saw her tower over the trees, with a glowing fire, dripping from her mouth like porridge. Softly, she descended and hiccuped a lavender flame, lain next to me. Briefly mesmerized by the color of the fireplace she had made me, watching the twigs and leaves dance in the air as the coals go from purple, to orange, then ash, . . . I saw her face. A face of castle doors, covering the forefront of the rest of her form. She was massive, like the majesty of a sailing ship, with wings as full sails, tucked behind her like a folded tent. Her purple flames revealed her laminate skin, as a shiny blue of night skies. Legs and toes as uprooted trees, and her tail that surrounded both myself, and the warmth of the fire she provided.

We stared at each other for what feels like forever. I couldn't imagine what was going through this creature's mind. Was I to become her next meal, a prisoner, or a toy to be mauled as if I was a bone to a dog? It was quiet until there was a whip-crack in the close distance. I looked to see what it was, hoping that it was someone to pick me up. I then looked back at her, and observed she was looking off to that sound as well. I had a better look of her head and neck, like a pillar of a palace, decorated, not with paint but with cracks. It was like beholding a marble pattern, etched with age, and glimmered with copper. Her horns cropped her head like a crown, and roundabout her head. I also saw some horns that broke off, and scratches and scars beneath her chin. This queen may had been through some battles.

Next thing I knew, she raises herself up, to be on all fours. She uncoiled her tail from around me, and placed her speared tail before me and then underneath to scoop me up from the ground and on to my feet. In a gentle leap, she came behind and nudged me with her nose to go forward. I hesitated at first, but after a few more prods, she was pointing to a direction, where I was to follow a heading. I had no choice but to follow her leading. Anytime I was to veer away from where she wanted me to go, she'd place me back with a soft brush of her toe.

I stared straight ahead, using her gaze as a guiding light, as I tread the path. This path was littered with broken branches and fallen trees. There were times where I could not climb over the enormous trunks, however, when I thought to try to go around, she'd pick me up and place me over them. This beast wanted me to make sure that I did not stray away. For whatever reason, I did not know at the time.

It's bewildering to me, reflecting back. If I were to paint a picture of this experience, and tell you the story, it wouldn't be of a young boy walking under the direction and guidance of the beast. But how many times can you say that you felt a sense of protection from a beast you never saw before? I did not feel protected at the time, but somehow I knew there was a purpose to whatever this behemoth of God's creatures had in store.

As we walked through the trees, I felt drop after drop of rain fall on my head. I looked up and felt even more of the spray, trickling through the branches. More and more poured through, and I started to shiver through it all. Then, no more rain came through. It stopped, all of a sudden, but I could still hear the rain fall around me. I looked above and saw her wing shield me from the drizzle. My shivering came to a slow stop, for her fevering breast had warmed me like a stove, heating a tea pot. That fear I felt of her towering stature, slowly turned into a reverence of majesty. She became a shelter to my nightmare.

The trail went from broken branches to loose leaves, and from loose leaves to a rock path. Her wing tucked back in, and no longer did I see the silhouettes of forest trees but what seemed like stars placed on a stone ceiling. This path she led me on, brought me to a cave. I still couldn't tell you how massive this cavern really was. I just knew it was big enough to house this creature comfortably. The glimmer was then faded by a yellow glow, not only from behind me, but also in front of me, and it was only getting brighter, like the sun was just about to break through the horizon.

What laid before me, was a hill of golden items, and I knew, then, it was a treasure to behold. I looked from top to bottom to see how big this collection was, and in a moment's notice did I see that the gold was right under my feet, as I stepped through what seemed to be sand and coins. Not just coins, but objects of bright splendor. Among them were items, gilded with spun copper, brass castings, and silver chains. Raw jewels casted on columns of the cave, and every form of decor you can imagine, at the disposal of this queen. Elegant plates, boxes, pearls, and studded diadems were within my grasp. Had I been smarter, I had taken anything else, other that what I had spotted next.

The dragon, leaped over that heap of riches and stared at me once again. It was as if she wanted to be admired in this collection that she had gathered. Upon landing on that collection of splendor, something fell from the top and right before my feet. What noise it made, cluttering down, echoing through the caves. I didn't know what to call it, but later I found it was a harp, casted in a fiery wood, set with silver strings. Nothing else interested me more, as I inspected this instrument. I ran my fingers down the strings. They were smooth but firm. With my soft touch, I could hear the notes resinate from it. I proceeded to pluck one, then two strings, and then ran my thumb through the spread of the strings. The dragon, standing in splendor, had lain down, as if approving the music and giving permission to continue. Her eyes seemed to focus on me, wishing me to play on. I played the harp, not with any professionalism whatsoever. I played with it as it were a toy, but listening, intently, to each note that sung as I plucked each string. I don't know which fascinated me more: the melody that such an instrument could make, or the realization that this queen and ruler of this night observed and listened to me carefully, like a mother would watch a child grow.

The world of gold around me fell away, as I continued to play with the combinations and chords that were at my control. The weight of the fear that I wore in the forest, disappeared, as I entered this new realm of discovery. You could say that the dragon brought me to a new world. Not the cave, but a world that I was able to enter through my mind. With the dragon as my compass, music as my map, and the harp as my vessel, to voyage through. I knew then, I couldn't leave. Not just yet.

The cave around me provided me the acoustics that not only satisfied my liking of the melodies I created, but soothed the dragon as well. Her heart was most useful as I could use it to keep the tempo to my musical productions. It pains me to say that I couldn't exactly remember what I initially wrote. Even in the time that I had after, I could not recreate, nor decipher the forgotten pieces on my pages. It did not stop me from making others, but that music had been lost, I'm afraid. I hope to think that my other works had pieces of that music. My heart is with it all. After all, how could a child remember the music playing as they dreamed? I hope the queen did.

Never did I realize before writing this testament, that someone can put a dragon to sleep. It became as if a drawing of shades, when she closed her eyes to the tunes that resonated off the cavern walls. Many men dreamed of hunting the terrible beasts of this world, stuff them, and hang their conquered corpses as trophies on their walls, but I'm happy putting one to sleep, and hopefully make it dream of peace.

I remember standing and playing with the harp. Then, I slowly made my way to sit down on the gold cache, finding my way to my back. I remember drifting in and out of sleep, with my head facing that creature, watching in fascination and curiosity. I fought my eyes as they were continually blinking. Then the blinks turned slower every time I opened my eyes. As they slowly closed down and my vision became foggy, I distinctly remember her crown rising up.

Alas, when I opened my eyes again, I found myself, no longer in the cave of gold, but in the arms of my mother. I hugged her tightly and did not want to let go again, because I didn't know where I was to be, if I had let go. The fabric of her dress were like the clouds of heaven, and her body heat of a warm bath. There were no tears, just joy, for a moment.

I looked around the rooms of my home, not caring how or why, but hoping to see that dragon, once again. I watched through the windows looking for a brush of blue to fly in the sky and for the twigs on the ground, to dance to her footsteps. I hid myself under my blankets, hoping to find that world I lost myself in before. I looked out the front door for the woods, thinking of taking those long steps again to find that cave of gold, but was afraid that I may be lost again. That memory of fear creeped down my back once again. It was something I didn't want to experience once more.

Here, I lie, writing, exploring the rooms of my memories, looking for that wonder that can deaden my pain and my swelling. Oh to feel that warmth of her breast again, and experience the grace from her. Can she be here to guide me to that realm, again. . . away from this anguish and fear I had before.

There's more to go back for. . .

As I fixed my eyes on the path I would take, I heard something familiar. The softness that turned my attention back inside my home. It was music. I followed it back to a room where my father occupied, along with something I hadn't noticed till then. Something large, making music, but stronger than what my child hands could hold. I observed him, sitting down, playing as carefully like a watchmaker, tinkering with gears. I approached closer, and my father looked down at me. He picked me up and placed me on his lap. I saw the keys before me, lain on fiery wood, reminding me of that harp I played. He pressed a key, and I followed after. Soon, I started to play on my own. Held for a moment's pause, I looked up to my father and gave me a familiar stare. The stare that gave me permission. . . to keep going. . .

and I never stopped. . . until now.

Now, I close this testament as reverence to the journey that I had been given by that stare. Not of my father, but that of the queen. She guided me out of loneliness to a cave of purpose. A purpose that had gold before me, and after me, but none to take with me after I pass. Nevertheless, I'm struck with awe. The awe that gave me perspective of the dawn breaking light to shine on that forest, that harp, and that chord. The moon gave me nothing but to look for a light. The cave gave me nothing but to look for a purpose. The harp gave me nothing but to look for a song. The dragon gave me nothing, but a venture to look for everything worth being discovered.

This pain, gives me nothing. . . but to look for her again. These last moments, however many I have left, give me nothing but to look underneath my blanket, hoping it would be midnight again, in that place. I blow the candles and dim the lamps to look for that yellow glow. Oh to be fearful again, hoping she'd come to warm me once more.

May my creations live on after me, and, if I may, in high hopes, to write one more piece, that she may greet me again for a final performance. Whether she be a dream, a lore, or a figment. . . it does not matter to me. . . for she gave me peace, at the thought of her.

May she know that this music was for her. . . my queen of the night.

-Wolfgang Mozart 27th November, 1791