Fountain Upon the Mountain

Twilight bathed the mountain top, as I looked up from the base.
Stars and planets smile sweetly. I vanish without a trace.

City lights dance and play, a sight all too surreal.
Upon this mountain I have found a place where hearts can heal.

This water well, or so I’m told, is magic’s place of birth,
Spreading farther than the seas, now only one survives on Earth.

A faerie floats above the spring, wings casting sparkled rays.
And I, a mere bystander, stood in the solitude of my ways.

Here arms reached out pulling me near, scented in autumns and springs.
As she pulled herself away, I found I too had wings.

“My child,” she whispered in my ear, “We’ve been waiting very long.”
But before the question escapes my lips, her vibrant soul was gone.

Alone I stood beside myself, bewildered and confused.
Breezes play throughout my wings aching to be used.

Voices of all shapes and size sing wholeheartedly.
Voices soft as cinnamon sweetly spoke to me:

“This mountain is a gift of life, the spring from far above,
The wings a gift you gave yourself for learning how to love.”

So with heart filled with compassion, wings longing to take flight,
I left the fountain upon the mountain, soaring off into the night.