River's Echo
A loose retelling of a journey through forgotten truths, where the river calls one to embrace the flow of becoming.
She drifts alone.
A slender shape, braided from mist.
Clad in twilight's embrace.
Each footfall dissolves as she treads the path.
Only the kimono quivers.
Arboreal limbs sway,
fruited arms crackling through untainted meadows.
Loam scars the edges, and buds shrill in the gale.
Secrets lost to gauzy veil,
and the breath of wind is restless.
No sun stains the sky,
no moon illuminates,
no stars to mark the hour.
Horizon bleed silver,
a curtain spilling in roils.
The fog coils tighter,
its talons clawing at her ankles.
She questions neither dusk
nor the forest's sigh.
Only her heart sings inside silence's grip.
Forward she glides.
Crowned by midnight,
fingernails caulked with mist.
Heels kiss below,
sometimes stone, sometimes soil.
The undergrowth thins.
A soft bend in the earth leads to water's edge.
Mist stirs, curls, pitters.
A breath held.
The moment stretches, fragile.
The river glitters with veiny spine.
Knees bow to meet the ground.
Crystal surface gleams, shimmers.
Its voice too deep, too ancient.
Still, she listens.
The current is slow, the ripple gentler still.
A pulse to mirror her own.
It sinks,
it hums,
weaving into her bones.
Mist spits his image out.
Gaze dark and deep.
Mouth silent and still.
He stands, summoned by her touch.
A shadow more solid than stone.
Voice folds over water,
"What is it you seek?"
One breath.
Melody ripples, just as low.
"I seek the place where I was once whole,"
No curve of his lip,
no hiss of his tongue.
Only a shake of his head.
"To seek is to forget that you are already found."
And he is gone.
Mist swells with his absence, but she moves on.
Each step heavier than the last.
Heart caroms within each tangled breath.
Her shadow stretches long, swallowed by the haze.
Yet still, feet follow where silence leads.
She drifts alone.
Vapour enfolds,
every leaf quivers with ghostly touch.
Soundless dusk expands,
time fractures beneath her tread.
The river beckons, a tender ache.
Liquid fingers press against thought.
Absence coils through marrow.
She leans, breath suspended.
Yet still, silence greets her.
Mist thickens, opaque.
He appears.
Fathomless pupils drink depth.
Head tilts, flowing silver pulses.
Breath lingers,
"Why chase that which slipped?"
She cannot face him.
"I long for remembrance lost."
"Nothing is gone. Not truly.
For it is always beneath. Always waiting."
Pulse quickens.
"What then remains to do?"
Timbre shatters,
"You already know."
And he is gone.
She drifts.
The path quivers beneath her feet,
the river's pulse stronger now,
its hum threading chest,
a song circling marrow.
The world softens.
A haze of half-formed through.
Reality dissolves, yet mist persists.
River pulse aligns with sinew.
Recognition trembles, unseen by undeniable.
At last, she halts.
Silver expanse below.
Mirro smooth, mirror cold.
Infinite surface.
Reflection crackles, refolds upon itself.
Mist parts,
he lingers again.
His presence, though quiet, clots the air.
His voice, soft, flowing.
"The river carries no memory."
Her brows kiss, voice lost in his.
"It does not need to,
for memory weighs,
and the river simply moves."
"You must relinquish pursuit,"
he continues, his gaze steady.
"You must flow,
for absence was never yours.
Only waiting."
And with his words, he fades.
Dissolving into the stream,
leaving only echoes
to take his place.
And in that sound, breath catches, blooms.
All things that merge into the river
become the river.
Her feet press into current.
Release and drift,
converge.
River's echo spirals,
all that once was slips,
like fog through fingers,
until she, too, dissolves,
woven into the flow.