I will never forget the day you told me that you were in love with a hippie girl. A bohemian goddess adorned with flowing tresses and floral garments, who lived in an earthen house with the boy who built it for her. They were the Guardians of sacred lands, keepers of the forests, peacemakers who inherited the earth. I remember how your eyes lit up when you talked about her and you couldn’t stop smiling for days.
It was your summer of love when sweet fruits ripened in gardens nearby, and you delighted in the warmth of days that went on forever. She gave you offerings of soft petals and succulent pleasures. You told me it wasn’t a physical thing, just a transformational dance with your true self and a fairy goddess, sent to you by the great spirit to guide you into a knowing, an understanding of what was to come…
Just for a time, you found your bliss among perfumed shrubbery and star charts read out loud to a chorus of cicadas, against a backdrop that went on forever.
You lived in a caravan of joy, with no mod-cons, surrounded by candlewood trees, buzzing bees, and treasures supplied by nature. They call it “heartland”, a farm beyond the constellation of stars, on a greenbelt stretched over emerald fields to eternity.
You felt like you belonged to the earth back then and the great expanse of sky delighted you with meteor showers in the darkness, that only you could see. The melody of the wind rustling in the trees lulled you to sleep each night.
There was no WiFi, and I only got a trickle of communication across the miles, articulating your excitement about freshly picked strawberries in the mornings and sightings of porcupines after dark. You wrote poetry there, romanticizing the mere ground you walked upon, as you communed with the Most-High, and your heart began to translate the words of your soul song. It was there that you tasted the pure nectar of the gods.
You swam in a golden pond on hot days and listened to indie music on the grassy verge of forgetfulness at dusk. You lost your heart to this earthen goddess back then, when the moon and stars were aligned, but it was a love that wasn’t to be. She had given you so much tenderness in the time of your greatest need, bestowing you with the gift of holy acceptance. You had come from a place where judgment and struggle had made you feel lesser than other mortals.
She was different though, unlike anyone you had known before, but her sweet love was for sharing. She held the philosophy of flower children, loving the ones they are with. You knew your own jealousies, your weakness was to love too much, and she was not for possessing.
You spoke kindly of her, always, and would not let me speak any other way…
You ran from that place, your heart in hand, fallen from your bloodied sleave, too much for you to bear. She could not love you only, for she was made of wind and fire. A haunting beauty, entangled by her own loveliness, she believed in free love.
But in that place where you touched the heavens and found the delicate fruits of belonging, you knew who you were. The soft remembrance of the earth was never lost on you, you planned to return someday, to inherit these lands in gratitude.
I still cry when I think of how it could have been, your joy made complete. Mine is a sad tale of longing, mixed with the memory of the joy you once knew, while you were here.
The world rotates and stars move and your footprints echo on those dusty roads in “heartland”. The Time Lords told me you still walk those gravel pathways, your spirit gravitates to the peace that whispers in those forests. When I went back, I planted a tree there, in remembrance of you.
Though my heart was shattered by your departure from this earth plane and the wound had not healed, I found the bliss of your soul, ever-present in these lands of love.
I stood in that forest once again and watched as wood nymphs planted saplings after a devastating fire had broken the spirit of the land. I felt you there, moving among the evergreens, alighting on wings of butterflies, seeing through the eyes of warblers in the dense bush. It was there in the calmness of the forest that a Time Lord asked me what my superpower was, and I gasped momentarily, not knowing then.
In that newborn forest, where tree frogs learn to sing, I remembered the gift that had been given to me. You guided me back to the place where you learned to celebrate your wildness, to gravel roads and soft lawns, to succulent greens and mellow habitations, where you could see my longing.
And as for my superpower, I was delighted by the question. I have thought about it for years.
You see I love seeing earthlings find their own voice, dream their own dreams, paint their own skies. I can see creativity in every human, even when they can’t see it in themselves.
“Do not weep for me,” I hear him say, “I have come home to the real paradise, that I only glimpsed while I lived in Heartland. You will be surprised Mom, by the glory of what is to come!”….