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CALLASSA
Invicta Veritate
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Corpus Meum
The Red Rose of Paradise
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Written by Callassa for her darling sweet curly baby
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I am standing amid this morning’s foggy dew. The aroma of moistened air is being flavoured by the trees and the grass. I am alone, upon a lane adorned by tall tees in beauty bloom, and in its natural display the great grey sky is as perfect as ever it was. There are larks and gulls overhead whose sound has accompanied my thoughts for as long as I have been waiting here. Not so long, no, and I will explain my origin in whatever there is so to do. For now, what will he think when he sees me, the one I have come to be with. My love, my baby darling true.
Though it is a requirement, it will be altogether difficult for me to explain things. Yes, I must you see, because everything is bound with my being here, what it really means.
But now, there is joy in abundance, there is the bitter-sweet fragrance of the earth all around me. Who am I? The name I chose eons gone is Callassa or Calla, for short. I have coined myriad calligraphies. I am wearing high heels and a red silk dress adorned with large pink roses and there are myriad birds in flight across my breast. I have my dark brown hair tied above my head in a style of Nefertiti and which obviously was seldom known during the last millenia. Around my waist is a velvet belt with a buckle of a lion’s head. In my left hand is a red rose. Might I be out of place? I do suppose so, but really it is of no consequence, other than for the one who will know me in fullness quite soon.
I tarry against this old oak gate because I know he will arrive from his walking and see me. He lives along this lane. What will he think? I do keep asking because this is no ordinary meeting, this, which is to be the warming surety of my presence.
There is the sound of a tree’s falling branch and as it caught my attention so did he, not too distant. Without hesitation, I stood away from the gate. How this day heralds so very, very much, it does because it heralds everything held in my heart.
I moved so that he would see me and he have sufficient time to wonder ‘what on earth?’ and come to no conclusion, many competing reservations arriving all at once, poor baby. Might he weep when he knows the abundance of me? Perhaps and perhaps not, and tears glisten translucent silver as they have always fallen. Yes, fallen and fallen.
He is almost here, ten steps, nine, eight, seven … three, two, one.
“Hello, my sweet darling love.”
A stride away the beauty born of me was standing aghast and without a single word to utter. Was he dreaming of me, was I mere wishful thinking, an illusion of the beauty born of a passion unsurpassed and whose meta-flavoured fruit has delivered mysteries unknown? Maybe not that, not yet. Soon, I say.
“My baby, my joy, my adored one, I am who you think I am, I am the she-bird whose singing voice you have loved and loved and … ”
I proffered my hand because when he would take it I could move close so to embrace him tightly and whisper, “It is true. I have the gift of a red rose, see, in my hand.”
I was gazing directly into his thoughts and I knew he was overwhelmed. Not hours afore, during the early morning’s innocence, all was torn apart by a very sudden and most intense light, its awful searing heat strangely bringing with it an appearance of things askew, nothing was ordinary, sensible seeming, and now there was me and I am the explanation. Yes, I am. It is so.
Whisper, whisper, soft, soft … whisper.
“There is no urgency to tell. I want to wrap around you and hereby imbue you in the summer corn whose yellow colour is the delight of all that is forever. I can do this in ways hitherto we were deprived, but I have you within me and herewithin, all is possibility, all is the heart of the Goddess. Think of it and it is true, my love. Yes, that is what it means. This is the new world and it is my beauty’s teeming time.”
Beautiful boy was still unable to speak. He was more overwhelmed now.
“The clocks shall remain still and there is the heartfelt, gone, until it is returned. There are many worlds that cannot be destroyed, cannot end, many lovers who can never part and I have you and you have me. I think you suspected me, but never my power beyond the fun and the frolic I made us feel together in the paradisiacal garden of roses. How could you? How could you know it would be destroyed and that I would deliver it back with all that ever mattered to us. But I cannot explain in a matter of fact way because there are no facts and I am the Goddess, illumined by love’s desire for beauty. I am not of capacity of the destroyers nor their consequence, those that are now gone forever from me …. from you.”
“Look at me that way because I adore you. All is beginning and we together can be altogether different of place and meaning in the adventure set forth. There was no warning of the ceasing of the day, no victory for them, and now all is again without the maniacal, those distorted of virtue. We are in paradise and we are to love as love be love, so you must be prepared for my insatiable desire. Yes, my baby, mine, my desire.
“I love you as my scented breath upon your eyes does blend with the new day and together wrapped, together curled, together passion bound … together abundant with joy.”
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(c) Callassa. MMXXIV
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CALLASSA
Invicta Veritate
MMXXIV
.
Corpus Meum
The Red Rose of Paradise
.
Written by Callassa
for darling sweet, who dances within Callassa’s heart
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