My Reflection and Me

 Featured art by Jaime Best

Listen to My Reflection and Me by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Spacecowboy by Turbo Knight

my playmate and i

my reflection and me

friends bereft of ending

building castles by the sea

quietly reflective

protected

blessed

and free

my playmate and i

my reflection and me

Back when life was but a dream, I learned to set a stunning scene. No constraints for I was free to be just who I wished to be. I wished to be carefree and maybe act a little carelessly. Climb the tallest tree and swing from precipice precariously. The only thing amiss was someone just as keen to share with me the feeling, that of simply being seen.

This was until my other me encouraged me to leap. To search the furtive earth for hidden secrets in my keep. To pluck up all my courage and remember I was free. To wander here and there, declare it fairer in-between. In honour of my playmate, I commenced a grand adventure. And shared with her the feeling, that of simply being seen.

Her hair was in ringlets that tickled my cheeks. Each night we touched fingertips and shuffled our feet to the one place where we could dance daydreams, build castles. Be just who we wished to be, share sense of mystery. Marvel the view and in absolute symmetry. Dizzily spin through the piles of dead leaves, reach within them and pin them to each hope and dream. Set midsummer scene in the bleakest midwinter. Kiss one another’s fingers at the first hint of a splinter. Innocence was ours as we both held on to belief that, in our special place, the monsters faced were not so mean. Having wandered here and there, the skies seemed fairest in-between. To search the furtive earth for hidden secrets in our keep.

She was my reflection. One both flawless and serene. For her bright eyes widened every time she turned to smile at me. Confiding every hope and dream through cheeks that dressed a vocal beam. And in that very moment, I felt seen.

Suddenly, I woke from dream and she was neither here nor there. Had no idea where but the butterfly that fluttered in my tummy made it clear that she was well within my reach. Screwed my eyes shut tight as it was way past time to sleep. Yet our palace of imagination still felt incomplete.

For celestial ages, I waited most patiently. Then, somewhat belatedly, faith intervened. My twin dreamer dreamed a harmonious dream. In a moment, our minds set the self same scene.

Beneath the staircase. Opened up by rusted key entrusted keeping deep within the pantry, on the top shelf, in plain view for all to see. Had always seemed to be beyond my reach. However, together we had never seen a reason to feel beaten or to lean into retreat. Beneath the staircase, in our secret palace, we were free. To sit atop a precipice that overlooked the trees.

My twin dreamer and I never gave up on belief. That one fine day, we’d learn the deepest secrets in our keep. Our courage and our brave would encourage we leap. In a moment of dream reconvened.

we were home in this place

we were seen

here and there

fairest yet in-between

a fairytale palace dressed in luminescent lichen

where monsters declared no intention to frighten

had we known our special place had always been inside us

then our hearts would have felt charmed for light to guide us

my playmate and i

my reflection and me

friends bereft of ending

building castles by the sea

quietly reflective

blessed

protected

and free

my playmate and i

my reflection and me

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™ Shadow Spark Publishing™

3 Comments

    1. Thank you so much Ann and apologies for only just seeing this. Glad you have been leaping and truly appreciative for the feedback. I trust you will enjoy your time here.

  1. This is one of the most touching stories I’ve ever read and one I’ll keenly revisit. This ought to be a fairytale publication aimed at children young and never too old.

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