Prompt: Spring - April

Birds in Her Eyes

Prompt: Dreams

The park bench is cold and lonely in the shade of a weather beaten tree.  Winter has left its mark; the landscape lies frozen in pale sunlight, waiting, always waiting, for the growing strength of spring.

Rain falls slowly, softly, like silver sheets tumbling down and sending ripples on the sidewalks.
A girl with a ribbon in her hair, dressed in a bright yellow raincoat streaks past, laughing.  She chases a little black dog with folded down ears and a mushed up, excited face.

As he watches her go, he is suddenly, painfully reminded of a different place, a different girl--- another time spent waiting for spring.

It was a while ago--- but somehow he still remembers the little details of those days, like the way the sun burned red around the ribbon in her hair, the shape of the shadows on the side of her face.   The feel of the wind, the damp morning dew on grass.  She was always looking up at the sky.  Daydreaming.

She loved this time of year; the wetness of April showers, the flood of the melt water, the small, tentative hands of sunlight and the skies, blue and wide and clear.

Her eyes are blue, too, even bluer than the sky, and sometimes, he swears, he can see birds flying.

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The girl in lemon yellow is tall; not petite, strong; not frail, and she laughs in a carefree way, so completely fearless.  Her eyes are dark, not light.

She's not her--- but he still feels the recognition like a glass shard in his heart.  That ribbon in her hair; so childish, so immature, so delicate….so heart-achingly familiar.

She's not her--- but she is.  She's not the girl he once knew-- but she is.  She has those birds in her eyes.

Sometimes, he gets there before her, and sits on the park bench, waiting.  She always, always comes here, early in the morning.  Her dog barks happily and runs past her, begging to be unleashed.  She laughs, unclips the leash and takes off like a bullet, a streak of bright yellow in the otherwise empty park, a tiny, leaping dog trailing. 

He’s lost count of the years now, of the time spent without her.  He can’t quite remember what her skin felt like, can’t quite remember her touch, really---she’s just a faraway girl standing on the precipice of his dreams, always there, never close enough. He’s just an old man now, tired and cold.  He never really believed he could see her again--- never really believed in reincarnation--- but there she is, the girl he once knew---but not.

The dog’s cheerful yips become louder as it races towards him, and she follows, trying to catch her breath.  The dog barks.  “Sorry,” she smiles.  “Guess he likes you.  Nice weather, huh?  It’s warming up.”

He smiles without meaning to, and it reminds him so much---so much--- of a different girl, a different place, another time spent waiting for spring. 

He stands up abruptly, walking away.

 The realization makes him feel strangely light, strangely free.  It feels like a weight on his heart that has always been there has been lifted.  All it takes is her smile and he knows.  The girl he once knew lives on, a new person.  He’s been running in her shadow; chasing someone who left him behind so long ago.  Maybe he can begin again too; like the world does every spring.

Maybe he can finally let go now ---because those birds in her eyes fly free now---freer than they ever were, and for them, the sky is endless.