—
His cheek was cold until
her infant lips melted the
ice in his heart,
an unexpected dawn in
the dark night of his
middle-age.
She grabbed his finger and
rescued him, pulling him
back from the lip of
despair to the flowing
waters of reality.
He warmed and blossomed in the
sun of her affection,
reborn as the sweet, fresh
orchid of his youthful aspirations.
They rolled down the grassy
hills of her childhood together,
giggling and laughing, until
she toddled off to explore the
glimmering garden of school and
sniff the blooming peonies of
friendship at play dates with friends.
For a time she picked
flowers and brought them
back to share the aroma
of her adventures.
He inhaled her undistilled
devotion, his heart
pulsing with love, his hand
holding hers until she finally
wandered away in search of the
lily of her own life.
He watched her go, warm and
rooted, satisfied his love had
made her strong and given
her the courage to trust herself,
knowing she had sprung
from the fertile soil of family
which wove her ambitions
into the fabric of the clan and
celebrated her departing courage
with fierce, resounding tribal pride.
—
Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
Sign up for our Writing Prompts email to receive writing inspiration in your inbox twice per week.
—

