Lavender’s Blue

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky.

...just as the Farmer girl lay her head on the pillow next to the sounds of a wounded beast snorting and snarling like it had just finished a long torturous battle with the demons that danced in the depths of its soul.. and she tried to turn off the thoughts that raced through her mind.. as the lavender hues that cast upon the bedroom walls through the skylight that faced west tried to calm her. Would she notice them, the clouds thought. Could they out shine the sounds that kept her mind racing...remembering the events that made up her day as she lay there curled up in a ball with blankets clenched tight over her ears trying to muffle the internal war taking place beside her. For a moment they lost hope, then broke for a brief interlude to call upon their dear friend...Moon..to illuminate the walls brighter.. shades of violet and periwinkle danced across the bedroom as another friend..Wind.. made them swirl.. and the Farmer girl peeked her head out and caught a glimpse of the magical show taking place that night. She blinked in disbelief as the beautiful colors lit her face like the Northern lights that she had always dreamt of seeing.. and hope was restored.

Unaware that this fantastical production had been taking place every night for the last half dozen new moons as she drown in blankets and arduous breathing patterns. The clouds had finally broken through and eased the debilitating thoughts that plagued her mind. As soon as she caught that first glimpse.. the spiral stopped spinning and her heart beat in sync with the rhythm of the swirling wind instead... fueling the everlasting memories that would awaken her soul and remind her of the magic she believed in as a child. The magic that had been stolen from her at the age of 8 when her mother took her last breath as she lay beside her on the little couch next to the hospital bed that took up most of the tiny living room that she grew up in... curled in a ball... blankets clenched tight to her ears.. praying not to hear the last gasp of arduous breathing that only lung cancer could steal.

But this night..some 40 years later.. she finally knew that her mother had never left her side. The parade of lavenders dancing across those walls covering her in what felt like the warmest hug she had ever felt reminded her of the last time she laid eyes on her beautiful mother.. clothed in her favorite lavender dress.. placed perfectly in the bed of satin that would be her final resting place at the age of 40...much too young to die.

Just hours before lullabies rang through the second story of the old farmhouse as the Farmer girl sang her 8 year old daughter to sleep. “Lavender is blue dilly dilly..lavender is green ...when I am King dilly dilly you will be Queen ..lavender is green dilly dilly ..lavender is blue ..you must love me dilly dilly ..for I love you.” The last of five lullabies that she sang every night trying to cover the sounds of the snorts and snarls coming from the room across the landing so that her little girl wouldn’t focus on them and peace would fill her mind as she drift away into dreamland. Some nights it took a couple of hours and countless repetition of those simple five songs to complete her mission...but she didn’t mind. Just as her mother never minded doing the same for her as a little girl...muffling the snorts and snarls that rang through their tiny home. The beautiful little replica of her face slumbering peacefully... a worthy prize every night.

But this particular night.. after she tiptoed back down the stairs to complete what was left of the day’s chores.. then crept back up to form her blanket cocoon...unaware of the dancing purple clouds... that one little peek from underneath the covers was the first emergence of a butterfly finally ready to spread its wings after slumbering for far too long.

The Farmer girl lay there in awe of the display before her... deaf now to the beast beside her... as her mind opened as wide as her blue eyes.. her mother’s blue eyes ...that also lay sleeping in the little pink room across the landing. Her thoughts began to take a different train that night.. not the one of despair that normally chugged along.. but one of reflection steaming steadily through the events of the past few months. Noticing not the ones that plummeted her further into darkness ..but the ones that her tired blue eyes had been too weary to notice. Miraculous signs placed along the track to change her course...

The wild flowers that bloomed the entire summer all over the farm in various shades of purples.. violets..and lavenders.. How her daughter picked Violets forever one sunny summer afternoon.. and they spent the evening concocting them into a delicious syrup to flavor their lemonade.

The tiny butterflies that danced around those wildflowers.. that were the palest shade of periwinkle she had ever seen... Periwinkle...her favorite color.

The rainbow that her little girl had painted on two rocks to give her as a gift upon returning from a weekend away while the farmhouse filled with shattering glass, screams and tears. The larger of the two rocks perfectly striped with lavender, blue and green and the smaller striped with red, orange and yellow. They fit together perfectly.. the tiny one nestled in the curve of the slightly bigger rock..as if they were two pieces of a whole.. and completed the rainbow together.

“Mommy why are you cleaning up glass?” ...too tired to make up a story or defend him the Farmer girl tried to force a smile.. “What do you have hiding in that little clenched palm?” The look on her daughter’s face giving away that she knew where the glass came from. The way she had opened her tiny hand to display those rocks as if they were the most precious jewels.. and the turn her face took into the biggest smile as she saw the gleam of her grandmother’s overbite on the Farmer girls face and the joyful tear that fell from her grandmother’s blue eyes as she said “Mommy I made these for you. They are a portal to another world.” Pleased.. she swiftly and innocently danced away to enjoy the sunshine that blessed the farms gardens that day.

Yes.. it was magical. That farm. That particular summer.

Their walk down the mossy path through the stand of pines just west of the farmhouse when they discovered countless blooms of wild mushrooms that formed fairy rings throughout the blankets of pine needles.. and how they both danced in them and squealed with joy and laughter each time they discovered a new one... and pretended to be mischievous fairies that day..

..feeling as free as she had felt once long ago.. when she had claimed her independence for the first time..at the age of 34.. it brought her attention back to the Tinkerbell tattoo she had gotten at the end of that summer.. how she drew and redrew for hours just to get Tink in the right pose to adorn her left hip. The creativity that flowed through her.. sparked by rebellion.. and how this would be her forever reminder to never lose herself for someone again..and Him..not the Beast ...the one that opened her eyes.. fueled her freedom.. inspired the ink.. his mischievous fairy.. then set her free to brave her journey alone and learn how to... Believe ..the word that purple and blue fairy dust formed as Tink gently blew it from her palm. When was the last time she had thought about that word and what it meant to her? That day it took on a different meaning.

The deep purple buds of that years crop of cannabis plants that grew to produce the golden medicinal oil that sustained the farms expenses and restored the Farmer girls back after years of suffering from a slipped disk and surgery...

...the horrible memories crept in from that painful period of recovery...and how cold and alone she felt when she realized that there would be no empathy or helping hand from the hand that she had promised to hold forever...the sharp sting of rejection that jolted through her heart in that realization. The Beast had taken Tinkerbell, turned her into Cinderella and with one chilling glance could make her Kingdom..her farm.. as cold as the castle cell that Belle had been locked away in. Only..there was no prince waiting to emerge from the shaggy mane or snarling teeth. She knew it for sure then.. all those years ago. But still, she stayed..she hoped...until there was no hope left..until now..

The beautiful double rainbow that arched over the gardens bounty just before harvest.. and right after the late summer rain that had washed the entire farm clean.. just two days before she had been gifted the most precious gift a little girl could give.. the double rainbow that awakened her to the real beauty and purpose of her journey... that gave the Farmer girl courage to take on the Beast that weekend that the farmhouse filled with shattering glass, screams and tears..

The countless sunsets over the pond west of the farmhouse that produced the most beautiful shades of blues and purples instead of peaches and crimsons.. the way the amber of cattails mixed with the mossy green pond water and faded into the suns pure flame reflection... almost reminded her of the coastal sunsets she was drawn to 14 years ago.. but those memories had been buried too deep..

And now... the midnight purple clouds illuminating her bedroom.

Suddenly her focus snapped back to them... after drifting into a dream like trance.. the not so subtle epiphanies of the past summer calming her soul..

She noticed the show on her walls had taken a different rhythm. Deep periwinkle flickered like fire now...matching the fire that raged in the beats of her heart.. No..not raging in red.. or blushing in peach.. but the perfect combination of blues and purples that a flame takes after some time has passed.. when it mellows and is burning at its hottest... Periwinkle...she thought..and she smiled.. yes.. when the purple and blue flame combine.. The calm transformative heat that radiates from that union... consuming all the other colors..forcing them to ascend harmoniously through their portal into the purple haze.. enlightened.

That was the flame that her fiery birth sign had been guiding her heart to.

A memory flashed through her like a bolt of lightning... Him.. not the beast.. A memory that she had suppressed in order to stifle the pain she felt in recalling it. The true love her heart longed for. The purpose her soul craved. The day her eyes met his and her world stood still... recognizing the other half of her soul in child like laughter.. boyish dimples and the amber-green waves in his gaze... her King. She felt it then...but her mind could not decipher what that feeling was until now.

...circumstances and fate had plummeted them in opposing directions.. life lessons to be learned and karmic debt to be repaid. The blue flame...earned.

She had paid dearly. The purple clouds knew. The purple clouds came every night to remind her that it was time. Time to remember. Time to break free from her cocoon. Time to fulfill the prophecy that her soul had agreed upon before this incarnation. Time to spread her royal wings and fly west. Every one of her Ancestors and Angels in attendance that night to witness and applaud the graduation of her soul...the spark and mellowing of her flame consuming the cycles of abuse that had spiraled through their lineage ....patiently awaiting this moment..

How had she gotten this far from home she wondered.. as the cold months of a Wisconsin winter were creeping slowly over the farm in the northern autumn wind. She remembered how the golden California sunshine had always called her to the Pacific Coast Highway..the 1.. the ocean shoreline at sunset.. and how in the months after her heart had shattered in a million pieces..forcing her to brave the wounded path ...the sound of waves crashing as the sun dipped below them was the only thing that soothed the pain and made her feel close to him again.

Countless other meticulously placed auspices over the summer months flooded her thoughts and a silent tear rolled over her cheek.

The purple clouds in all of their majesty and the violets and lavenders of the farm that summer were her compass... pointing west...

The double rainbow..the rocks.. the portal.. cementing a bridge in her mind..the path to her true kingdom that awaited.

A shiver rolled through her spine as she understood the task that this particular winter would bear.. and the steep price her journey back to the shoreline of The 1 would cost.. The blue flame blaze flickering in the depths of her heart.. scorching her core... mimicking the crimson glow of the sun upon meeting the oceans horizon...the soft glow of pinks and peaches slowly fading into purples and blues.. the flames uniting in that moment just before dusk turns to night... setting the stage for the purple clouds to dance once more.. in anticipation and celebration of how...

The Farmer Girl’s next chapter would take flight...