Ask the sea. It whispers candle lit stories. One is told of a Sparrow in hopeless love with a Captain. Listen. In the still of night, waves tumble and crash upon a rocky shore. As tides ebb, notes beautiful and even rise.

These notes are heaven- sent, ripped from the deepest depths of being. A tear slipping from the corner of an eye, heart breaking silence. It’s the Sparrow, singing a canto to the sea.

Close your eyes, Child. Nestle. I’ll whisper a story about a man and his undying love for a woman. To this day, her salty tears rain down upon stormy water. Winds carry her to shore. She waits at the spot from which she left. For truth be told: “the sea separates land. It can not separate souls.”

Our Captain found divinity at sea. One part water, one part earth and bone, he lived and breathed salt air. In deepness he swam like a fish in a world filled with darkness and light, turrets and ledges. The sea had taught him patience. In deepness, he waited for the rarest treasure to roll along the ocean floor: a moon shell, both exquisite in function and form. This gift he picked for her.

At sunset, the Captain turned his ship and followed the notes that charted home. Faith was tied to her existence. He had anchored his life to her soul. Beneath a blanket of stars they sat. There was one moon in the sky. He placed one in her hands.

Amused, she’d traced the swirls upon the shell, a circular path that led inward. Silent and windswept, she’d pointed to the curious centre and smiled.

They had made a world between them amidst driftwood and ruin. He knew he’d love her forever, one day replacing moon shells for pearls. The universe did not agree. The ebbing tides of winter cut them apart.

For too many summers, he had watched her feel the sky. On her back grew the wings of a sparrow.

TBC

~ Rock a Bye

A Scene: Cilla 1935

Draft Three

Anna G. Watson

~ educator, aspiring writer, simple design and style

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