Part II: Beth

I opened the door
And the warmth rushed out
The house hadna been alone
While I'd been about.

 A smile spread my lips: Ragmoarnaroch!
I breathed in his scent
As I swung wide the door
But no! Alas. He was here no more.

 I sighed. The babe cried.
Always she knew my thoughts.
But I stood a moment longer,
And breathed.

 I breathed in his warmth
and his strength
and his love
They were there, for me.
Left in the air, for me.
From him.
My love.

 Why hadn't he waited?
I swung the babe down
Unlaced her carry
Long hours she'd ridden, with no complaint.

 My heart was heavy, heavy.
Leaden that I'd missed him
My Ragmoarnaroch.
The babe, with her wild, strange eyes

Stared at the air.
She saw the molecules left of him
The way that I smelled him.
Felt him.

 When I'd untied the very last lace
and set her on her sturdy wee legs
She stared no more
But headed for the door
Of the bedroom

She waited, patient
for me to open it
Of course, I did.

Straight to the bed she toddled.
So sure-footed,
Though short and wobbly.

 Beside the bed
She put her hands on it
Then turned her sweet head,
With her strange, clear eyes
She turned her sweet face
To look up at me.

 What did she want of me?
'Twas then that I noticed the glow
It shone bright from under the pillow.

 I lifted Blessa
To the bed
Her hand went in
Came back with red!
A ruby, 'twas, in a golden coin.

 She chortled. I gasped.
The ruby didna just gleam -- it glowed.
Lit from within by some magic light.

 My own hand went in,
And I drew out blue.
Sapphire, encased the same
In a golden coin.
Rings in gold round the stone
Rippled
Like water.

 The ripples swam in my vision
and I blinked in surprise.
No water I saw, yet...
Water I felt!

 I tossed the coin
from hand to hand
My eyes saw metal and stone
My hands felt... water.
I poured it back and forth,
Delighted.
Baffled.

 Blessa watched.
Unlike me,
She did see the water.
Cert, she did.

She held her ruby coin high.
A beacon
Her eyes on the water.
"Ainbow, Mama."

I squeezed my eyes to a slit
I tried to see.
I saw the glow of the stone
but I could not see the water
Nor the rainbow.

 But I had learned not to doubt my daughter
By now.
So a rainbow there was.
She saw much that I did not.

 Blessa moved her other hand
From up to down: a command.
"Close eyes, Mama."

 When I let my lids fall,
making the blank canvas,
Blessa sent me the picture
the light on the water
the rainbow
as I poured back and forth.

 I smiled for my Blessa.
What she'd shown me was beautiful.
And yet, my heart ached.
Where was Ragmoarnaroch?
He should be here, to share this joy.

I opened my eyes
And smiled again for Blessa
She smiled back to me,
Then set the ruby down
On the aged quilt.

 The pillow, it still glowed.
Her hand went in again
And drew out a stone of green.

 An emerald, encased in a prickly coin
A huge, triangular stone
Surrounded by triangles and pyramids
The points poking up from the surface

She pressed the points
between her chubby palms
She laughed.
"Zzzt! Mama! Zzzzt!"

Indeed, zzzt.
Wee sparks shot from her palms
as she pressed.
Wee
green
sparks..

I set the sapphire down
On the quilt by the side of the ruby
And lifted the pillow.
How many more?

 There were two.
One white -- a diamond, square and bright.
Encased in a square bronze coin.
One black -- a smooth, round stone.
Its coin was silver and smooth.

 Blessa picked up the diamond.
Frowned.
"No zzzt, Mama."

 I picked up the black stone. Frowned, too.
No zzzt on this one, either.
No water, no fire.
Nothing.

We put them down by the others.
The two by the side of the three.

Black, white
Green, blue, red.
Five stones in coins.
Pretty stones in coins.

All that my Ragmoarnaroch had left
when he went.

 A pile of stones?
No, a circle...
Had they moved?
My eyes thought the ruby's light
Traced their perimeter.

 But before my mind believed,
They moved again once more.
Now, I knew I saw.
They formed an arrow.

The red glow was strong.
The arrow was sure.
It was a command. 

"Da."

Blessa's voice was strong.
"Mama. Da!"
Blessa always knew.
And when she knew, I knew too.

I closed my eyes.
She showed me.
She saw her da.
He had drawn his sword.
Not good.

He needed her.
He needed me, too.
Maybe.

The arrow
It throbbed with insistent red fire.
Tired as I was,
I knew.
Follow we must.

Thank you to Jorinde Brokke for the wonderful photo from her home in the south of France