The Battlefield

The Battlefield

Alone and weary you regain a foothold; get back on your feet. Your eyes blur, your muscles ache, your enemies are for now out of sight, lost in the fog of battle. The mist lays low across the uneven ground, barely concealing the carnage that has gone before, the smoky dark haze randomly blocks the sun above you, throwing wicked shadows across your vision. You feel weak but you know you must go on. The armour that has protected you thus far is battered and dented. Your bones are lead and your joints protest with every movement, the effort of concentration is almost too much and the thought of walking away from this sad field haunts you, draws you, like an image of despair. Tendrils of darkness pull at you, as smothering smoke from the battle fires around you, calling you to leave, run away, allow the freedom of defeat to wash over you. The sad sickly voices of the lost cry out, “You have done enough; no one can blame you for being free.”
All alone you cast your gaze around this forlorn field of loss and despair, it falls on you suddenly, your heart beats slowly in sadness, and tears begin to blind you. So much pain around you, so many who need help. They lie defenceless in their weakness, unable to ward off the vicious blows that come from the darkness of the evening, or the fog of the unknown. Your brave heart falters, yet you know it is still brave, it will forever be true. It has stood strong, the need for healing as its motivation, the constancy of love as its pulse, but for now, in this grim place, your spirit is wounded, your heartbeat weakens, your soul cries out for the joy that is nowhere to be found.
A sound shifts your awareness. Something moves in your quiet desolate world. The swirling mist gathers around you, protecting and hiding you, or blocking your vision of danger? The angry battlefield is gone, replaced now by a new foe creeping in through the shroud, the thick mist deadening the footfall of he who approaches. The sound is close, the movement nearby. Your senses, already stretched, reach out to their limit, searching, feeling for any vibration that might give a split second warning of an attack that could send you hurtling downwards again. You wait, not breathing, wondering what could happen next.
Suddenly the sound becomes a shape and the shape becomes a friend, and your friend walks slowly toward you, wounded, weary. Like you, the scars he wears are old but the wounds are fresh. He stops a few feet away from you and with a smile in his eyes he lifts his sword in salute. Through the dirt and grime of battle you see the smile spread across his face and light his spirit, his joy obvious as he draws himself up to his full height. Your senses release, the muscles held firm for onslaught relax and rest in the presence of an ally.
Behind closed eyes the day disappears, if only for a moment and you are safe, you are whole, you are strong. Your focus for so long has been on your battles, remaining vigilant, stretching just outside your limits, defending the cause at any cost.
The fog of war begins to fade from grey to pure white and vibrant crystal colours dance around you. Your pain is gone and your spirit is as soft as Angels’ whispers, beauty surrounds you in the smiles of children, the rough purr of a kitten, the sound of thunder from within a warm cosy bed. Sunlight filters through leaves and a cascading stream plays a laughing rhythm on her pebbles, the gentle wind conducts a choir of pine trees as fluffy white pillows float slowly across the blue morning sky. A taste forms in your mouth, a naturally ripened pear, sweet and crunchy, luscious juice flowing easily down your throat, a delight as you silently relish the fresh feeling it leaves on your lips.
You drift peacefully through your memories, your dreams, your highest self, and you feel arms surround you; the honest cuddle of a child completes your happiness and you melt, become one with the pure whiteness around you.
As your eyes open again the world is brighter, the mist not so gloomy, the battlefield less daunting. Your friend and ally stands nearby and offers you his shield. From behind his eyes you can see the same light as the light you feel within yourself. You look into the eyes of your own soul and again, once again, drag your sword from the mire and with strength regained, prepare.

©copyright Nick Meadows 2007

The Battlefield

Nick Meadows

Thornside, Australia

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