The Seedling, the Medallion, and the Thorn

He was but a young man, in need of much knowledge,
when he met upon her face, pouring out so much warmth,
her gown glowing, flowing white, dancing around her,
as if in song, fluttering as butterflies grace upon the meadows,
quietly, so quietly,
she whispered,
“You must take these three things with you upon your travels”
She handed him, a simple seedling, a shining gold medallion,,
and a thorn from the vines of a rose.
He asked, confused, “What could these be for?”
She whispered into his soul, “Your heart already knows.”
Her essence and beauty disappeared into the winds,
as they swirled leaves upon the breeze.
He folded the items carefully inside a kerchief
and placed them in his pocket.
The significance of these curious items, he was about to find.
He continued to reach a part of the earth,
with the air difficult to take in,
trees withering, brown dead grass, and in the middle of its depths,
the sounds of crying,
a mother holding her child.
“He has not the air to breathe.”
He silently removed his kerchief from his pocket,
and took the seedling out in his hands,
without hesitation, he planted them into the earth, as he kneeled beside them.
Her tears dampened the ground,
and quickly a plant emerged, sprouting leaves.
The heavy air surrounding them cleared,
a gasp of breath brought forth the young boy, renewing his life.
He continued on his travels,
coming to a village, rejoicing in festivities,
a woman adorned in clothing, of such a lady of the night.
She attempted to stir him in emotions, in lieu of trade,
she discovered the kerchief within his pocket.
His lonely heart, perhaps yearning, but not weak.
He turned her away, and continued.
Passing years, living the simple man’s life,
growing in much more knowledge.
He came upon his trousers, without hesitation, reached inside the pocket,
he found the gold medallion,
it had glistened brightly like the sun,
glowing as brightly as the flowing white that danced around her,
he remembered,
then remembered the thorn, and reached inside to grasp.
sharp as blood trickled. Quiet, so quiet.
He once again saw her face, such warmth.
She whispered into his soul, “Your heart already knows.”
Suddenly he was sitting upon the stool, realizing he had pricked his finger upon the needle,
his reality as a tailor, he took much care in the creations paying special attention, his fabric of love.
She placed a kiss upon his lips, the dress he had made for her, glowing, flowing white danced around her.
Outside his window, a young boy playing in the streets, healthy with his friends,
the breath of life, a tree, standing reaching into the clouds, surrounded in beauty of the earth.
He smiled upon her, as the medallion cascaded from her neck, gently touching upon her chest, close to her heart.
She placed her hand upon it, smiled upon him, and whispered “I love you” into his soul.