Ancient Spell

“You were a knight: a strong, courageous, fearless knight, and the king’s best man. You used to spend too much time on battlefields while I was praying for you to come back. There was always a lamp on our cabin's door, lighten up for to guide you back home to me.

One fine day you were gone to the war. Months and months have passed and, one by one, the men came back to their families. I spent days at the front door, scented with oils, all dressed up, waiting for my love to come home…. I asked about you but your buddies could not look at me in the eyes. The last soldier to arrive gave me your sword with honors and told me that you got killed in battle as a brave man. You were a hero. There would never be other warrior like you.

No…there would never be other man like you. I cried and screamed, and damned the king and every one of his generals, and every drop of blood! I prayed the skies to take off this earth every man who has ever wanted a war, and take them to live eternity in hell!

Then I stopped crying and wrote a prayer asking every saint, ghost, angel, spirit, every form of energy from good or evil, to bring you back to me. I put your clothes, my clothes, our bed sheets, our personal objects, your sword, our glasses, our intimacy, my letters, your bottles of wine; all over our bed…I threw the scented oils I used to fill your bath with…and the oil lamp that should have guided you home…and I set our house on fire.

I transformed our love into smoke perfumed with pain and sadness…the smoke got to the sky covering the stars in that full moon night. Now you and I were up there in the smoke, united forever, as pure feelings…pure love and memories.

While the fire burned everything we’ve touched, I kept saying my prayer desperately for the smoke to guide us in our lives to come; for you to come back to me in each one of these lives, and never ever go to the battlefields again; for the sword and blood never take you away from me.

Down on my knees, watching the smoke transform desire in assurance, I was arrested. I was tortured. I confessed to be impure. But I did not feel the pain, for my soul was no longer part of anything. I was burned in the bonfire while the crowd screamed-- “witch! Burn witch!” -- watching me die. My last muscle to contract brought a smile to my face: time to be with you again has come.

Years passed…. centuries passed, and we were born again, this time separated by the ocean. I could not remind me of anything, until a war has begun. I heard in the news that troops have arrived to that almost sacred soil, and I knew immediately that something big was close to stab on my chest. My heart exploded and I didn’t know why. Tears fell down my face as a warning that a great warrior was back to a holy battle.

Again, I was impotent.

That war has never ended and even though my heart told me that you were safe, I couldn’t help myself from crossing the ocean to look for my lost warrior. I traveled, I wandered, and I looked up every corner of the world, but I didn’t really know what I was looking for.

Then, one night, I was with friends in a bar and I felt the perfume of scented oils, wood and smoke. That made me dizzy but nobody else could feel. Suddenly, the place’s door opened bringing the cold air of the winter, smelling like perfume and blood, as your clothes used to, when washed in the river.

So I finally found you, my knight. My man was back!

Your eyes shined when you saw me. Your blond beard, your tanned skin, your sparkling smile, and your white shirt glistening as your armor…Then I remembered your kiss on our cabin’s door, your hands lifting up my dress, you taking me in your arms like it would be the last time. Every time as the last time…

So now we kiss… and our souls rejoice for they will never be apart again.”

Dry the tears…deep breath…someone call the psychiatrist.



December 2005