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Prophecy
by
Rusty Broadspear
Pink and crimson heart shaped clouds
Slide silently by on diamond blue sky.
A moment in time, inspiring, sublime
As the Sun descends, waving goodbye.
We sit cutting shapes out of cardboard
In a dream beside a fresh mountain stream
Her mum’s hand had fitted her head band,
Holding ringlets. Her skin cool as cream.
She held up a man, said he was a Prince,
Who, one day would present her a bouquet
Of striking flowers from faraway shores.
I sniggered and didn’t know what to say.
She asked what it was that I had cut out.
I looked, and thought and said a Princess
Of all that is good. She fully understood.
I said could it be you? Smiling, she replied yes.
Hand in hand we walked to the edge of the stream,
She placed her Prince in the water and let go.
Hold onto your Princess, she said in this dream
My Prince is leaving, sailing with the flow.
It was sad to watch him take his leave,
So I turned to ask why – but she was no longer there.
I woke up sobbing, whispering goodbyes,
Nothing made sense, such deep despair.
So many streams shared through my life,
With my cardboard cut–out Princess.
Carried everywhere with me so close to my heart,
The most treasured thing I possess.
Then the prophecy was fulfilled, I found my Princess,
Through the power of her words and mind alone.
To make matters complete, we will soon meet
To talk dreams, to talk love and to reap what was sown.
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