The longer the path, the more the battles

I can feel the world spinning around me and I can't keep up. The horizon changes constantly and my mind expands and contracts like a giant heart which pumps more blood than the ocean and the Mississippi river combined. That's when I know the time has come to face my fear and take one step further. The steps I take are always forward,  because as I'm sure you know, there is no backwards,  time has only one direction, always leading me to another battle which I have to win, or, as my grandfather used to say, I'll be turned into a   chalk queen on a giant's chess board.

Not knowing when the enemy will strike, I must be prepared and that’s why I wear my armor at all times. I wear it under my clothes, buried under my skin very close to my heart. One must always be prepared these days, for the evil will always find a way to sneak into your kitchen.

As I see the evil shadow lurking in the corner of the room, I remember an old saying:

 “Let the warrior chose his weapon, for there's only one weapon he can be invincible with" 

I look the shadow in its unseen eyes and I bend my head in front of it, for no matter how strong the enemy, there's always time for courtesy. 

I stand there silently waiting for the enemy to give me the first blow, for then I'll know how his best shot feels like. If I'll survive that means I'm strong enough to defeat him, if I'll fall down dead that means I didn't stand a chance anyway. 

As it hits me and stabs me in my heart, I feel his hit all the way to the marrow of my spine and the tip of my toes. But I always fight the pain and keep my muscles tense and so I don't feel much, sometimes any pain at all. I mustn’t reveal my secret to him, for otherwise the evil monster will learn my trick and try to hit me harder.

After his blow I try to look broken and devastated. I try to look hurt and scared. I try to look miserable and ashamed, and then I plan my next move: my sword lies beside me, it will always be there, for like my armor, it is already a part of me. I carry it proud and conscious and as I see its shine in the enemy's eyes I feel   my garden blooming and my giraffe heart pumping the magical blood in my frail body. I feel alive and blessed; I find my place in the universe and in the world again. I see my kingdom in front of my eyes with all its beauty. 

With every breath I take  I grow, my hands turn into giant tentacles and as I grab the sword I know that if I do it right, all I need is one blow and all the evil will be put to rest. I stand in front of it, brave, like a mighty roman soldier, and holding my sword, I spin together with the world and I hear everything unheard before. I can understand all the voices, the thoughts and the wishes I hear. 

I hit him hard and as he falls down I'm ready to take another step.

The luck has left the lucky

You know how fairy tales begin

One never loses, they all win.

The sky was blue, the grass was green

Best day in June you've ever seen,

As I was walking through the woods,

Bringing my fairy friend some goods,

Down the path I always take, 

Next to the beautiful blue lake

What do I see in front of me?

Holding his elbow on one knee,

Up on the rock, a little man

Who looked a lot like Peter Pan

He seemed so lost, he looked so sad, 

He made me feel so very bad!

He was not young, his hair was white, 

His clothes were poor and way too tight!

„Hey little man, what's wrong with you?

Did you get lost? What can I do?

Don't feel ashamed to say what's wrong

For I cannot stay with you too long"

"Oh milady, you're too kind, 

There's simply so much on my mind

I lost my lucky charm last week, 

Since then I cannot stop but seek

Without it I'm no good, you see, 

For it has always been with me"

"I'm sorry for your loss my friend,

If you need help, one hand I'll lend

Although I don't agree with you, 

One man's luck you can't pursue

There is no charm to bring ones' luck

When one not luck is bound to strike

Sometimes no matter what we do, 

We lose our luck, and so did you"

 "Well milady, you must be right

I know with luck one cannot fight, 

It comes; it goes; sometimes for good

If I could beg for it, I would.

Sometimes I cannot simply show,

Although deep down inside, I know, 

I am the same today like then 

I'll always stay an old wise man"

That's what he said, the wise old gnome,

So he thanked me and went home

His luck came back next day I've heard

‘cause he had patience, as reward.

So when it comes to luck, dear friends,

One cannot simply stretch its ends

How to love a giraffe

Those who say that they know giraffes must be wrong. I don't think giraffes can ever be resumed, not even in one million phrases. They change constantly and their personality is different in any moment you meet them. I used to get mad at first, because all the time when I met one giraffe and I was really friendly and polite with the long necked creature, suddenly a very rude answer came along: 

"And they say that the air I'm breathing has less oxygen! Look at you, your head is even above mine, you're up in the clouds!"

"Just because you don't understand what I'm trying to say that doesn't mean that there's something wrong with what I'm saying! You giraffes, you think you know everything!" I said, looking at her huge legs.

"Of course we do! All the words spoken on this planet come to our ears. Our ears are above you all and that's why we're special, for we know everything. Besides, we have the strongest heart and we love more than you ever will."

„Then why are you so rude? Where I come from everybody's nice and polite."

„Oh, I’m sorry about that. It’s not rudeness; it's just that I am in a really big hurry. You see, Dina the zebra, is about to give birth and I must bring her some fresh grass. You take everything too personal! Now step aside, for I have to run and the wind is blowing in my face!"

And the giant started to run, totally disorganized, chaotic, throwing her huge legs on the grass and singing a song with her almost soprano like voice. As she started to run, I could feel the earth moving under my legs. I couldn't even see her face the whole time she spoke to me, for she was really tall.

Our encounters have the same pattern every time and no matter how hard I try, I’m never prepared for them. She always leaves me without a line and I always stand there dazzled watching her leave, thinking about what she has just said. The giraffes I know are all like that for this is their charm, they have the strongest heart and they love more than we ever will.

Before butterflies they were all maggots

We've lost the power to believe that sometimes a really ugly and most disgusting thing can be the beginning of something spectacular. We don't believe in happy endings or happiness anymore. And when we do this, when we stop believing, we begin to grow old. The mermaids in the sky disappear and the rainbows start to fade, slowly being absorbed in the background. Sometimes the mermaids leave my kingdom without any notice and I don’t even realize they’ve left. And when I do, no matter how hard I look, I cannot find them. Although a part of me knows they are not here, I keep on looking, hoping that my luck has changed and I will succeed. 
"They must be hiding around here somewhere!" I say to myself with tears in my eyes. But then I get really sad and start to feel lonely. For days I stay in the library trying to read a very boring adventure novel. Secretly I am hoping that one of the mermaids will come knocking at my window.

"Anytime now, anytime! They will come and we will play again"

 Days go by and the sky is gray. The clouds move really fast barely changing their shape. They seem somehow disappointed too, for the mermaids always caressed and gave them a shape. The most depressing image is the old oak in front of the castle. It has no leaves, not even one! He sits there sad, ashamed and resigned wondering, just like me, if better days will ever come in this kingdom. I cannot help him, for my powers are too weak without their game. I want to hug him and tell him how sorry I am and that I know that he’s the most amazing oak in the whole world.

They say that if something is bound to happen, it will happen anyway. A miracle is like a falling star. You never know if it's an accident or the result of complicated mathematical equations. Every now and then I have the honor to face a miracle. Maybe for you it's not much, one person might not even see it. A little mermaid comes at my window. She's small, not young, for they have no age, red haired, with an emerald colored tail and big blue eyes. She knocks impatiently wiggling her tail and waving her little hands. She tells me to go outside for all the other mermaids came back from their journey with gifts for me. They are waiting above the forest. I must hurry! Later on we will play the mermaid game. We will play today and tomorrow. We will play for ever and I will never be alone again.  As I give her my hand I smile and I understand why there are so many maggots in this world.

Tommy has a secret

"Ladybird, ladybird, sing to me once more

I don't want the birds to sing, 

You're the one that I adore"

Ignoring his request, she slowly flew away

Letting him hope that she will sing someday

His mother heard what he had said

She smiled at him, nodding her head:

"Tommy, the ladybirds can't sing

They’re even smaller than my ring

They just fly and have no use

But for the children to amuse”

He can’t believe what he is hearing,

For he knows well, they have a meaning

And what his mother doesn’t know,

At night, they put on a show

They sing and dance, they even act

And he’s not kidding, that’s a fact!

One simply can’t convince his mother

And so, he doesn’t even bother

The secret’s only his to keep

At night, after he hears them cheep,

When lights are out, and he’s in bed

Holding his teddy bear named Ned,

They take him to another place

Where all together sing and dance

The other children, they come too,

Dancing together, two by two,

They do this every night since May

That’s how he even learned to sway.

The Perfect Flower

     While he was pouring me coffee this morning, Lord Foster, my uncle, has asked me out of the blue: "Which is your favorite flower? Which one makes your heart melt and lets you dream of, princess?"

As I knew that my birthday is coming soon, I gave him the most convenient answer one could hope for:

"I don't know, milord, I love them all equally!" I said, while taking another sip from my coffee cup. 

        The air of the morning was crisp and fresh. One could hear the blackbirds’ song coming from the big oak my great grandfather has planted in front of the palace. The sky was crystal clear and no cloud whatsoever was in sight. It looked like we were about to have another beautiful day ahead of us. A mild breeze coming from our garden has brought an almost intoxicating smell of lilac and magnolia.

          “What if there were to be a perfect flower?” I asked myself, delighted with the smells surrounding me. Where else to seek perfection for if not in a flower? What would this flower look like? How about its smell? Should it be sweet, exotic? Should it be a majestic rose with velvety petals of crimson red? Maybe a tall magenta iris? And then I realized that in order for it to be perfect I have to build it by myself, taking the parts I love the most in all the beautiful flowers I can think of.

          In my head pictures of different flowers started to appear. They’ve emerged, out of nowhere, presenting themselves to me while spinning and spreading their most delicate perfume, as if they all wanted to be part of my experiment. They were all bloomed; some still had their part of buds on, which I found even more thrilling, for when I see a bud, I start imagining how it will look like when bloomed.

           The rows of tulips in my garden almost make me cry each year. They’re colorful, alive and wiggling their heads whenever I pass them by. They seem happy to see me and they all salute, like young children on a Sunday afternoon. The smell of freshly cut hyacinths  and mayflowers mixed with wild yellow peonies caresses my soul every spring, making me forget about the long winter which finally has passed.

       In summer I love the frailty of the red poppy flowers scattered around the cereal fields and all the other colorful wild ones, blooming on the green meadows. The water lilies on our pond seem magical. They follow the sun on the sky and as soon as the he goes to bed, they close their petals and fall asleep enchanted by the rays of our lady, the moon. They’re somehow pinkish, yet not white, but delicate and soft, floating away like gondolas in sunset on the narrow channels of Venice. My chrysanthemums when they’re bloomed; they are so brave and tall! Both white and purple colored; they are the pillars of the gate, defending the entrance to my garden from all the mean intentions. Deep anchored in my thoughts, I raise my eyes and see the endless fields of lavender, stretching all the way to the end of the horizon. “Oh my, there’s even more than this! How can I ever tell? It is so hard to chose, one cannot simply do it!” I said to myself both worried and relieved.

        Because all those who love the flowers know that once you love a flower, you slowly love them all. Your garden grows and grows; there is no end to it. As long as your heart is open and your soul is blessed with love, you’ll find perfection in every flower you encounter.

        “The perfect flower is not one, but all of them!” I thought to myself on this peaceful morning on the terrace. I felt happy and my soul was at ease knowing that I see perfection all around me. I have so many flowers in my garden!

  

No easy prey can be a trophy

“I am the mighty Leo, I'm sure you've heard of me. 

I am more fierce and agile than one could ever be.

With teeth so sharp, and claws so long

My roar's so strong and though it's wrong

I stand and roar, I cannot hold it back! 

No matter what my fellow lions say 

I want to wake and chase my prey

For not alone, we work in pack

Some like to sneak and to attack

Behind the other lion's back”

"This is no hunt, this is some sports event!"

Says he, the lion, having his soul bent

“They like to kill, they hate the game

And all they want is wealth and fame

When I'll be gone, please promise me

You'll find another to replace me
Someone who's fair and loves the game

Who cares much less of wealth and fame

For to be king in this old kingdom

                                                              One must bring trophies and have wisdom"