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ליטל צאנדלר
/ Magic Forest

The lazy afternoon sky is painted in gold.
The air is perfumed with the sweet scents of pine and oak.
And the green yellow leaves sway casually in the gentle
wind. Their movement is accompanied by the distant voices of
songbirds.
All around the magic forest everything is peaceful, and all
is calm.
Amongst the mighty timbers, a wide river is flowing.
Its enchanted waters are pure and clear, for all the
creatures of the forest to drink. Beautiful flowers grow on
the riverbank, and colorful beetles and butterflies flutter
excitedly along the pulsing currant.
Not far away, at the very heart of the magic forest. Across
an ancient stone bridge, the majestic trees shift aside to
reveal a blossoming clearing wide and lush.
The clearing is filled with various and abundant life.
Clovers, daisies, violets and lilies color the soft green
grass that covers the open fertile earth.
There, at the center of the clearing, stands a glorious
castle.
The castle's marble walls are pink, and it's long arched
transoms shine in bright yellow. Four round towers ascend to
the sky, in each corner of the wall, creating a perfect
square. And another one; soaring higher and grander than the
rest; at the axis of the four.
The towers are decked with dozens of colorful painted
glasses. And flowers, and bright banners hang down from
every porthole.
On top of each tower's pointy roof, waves a magnificent
flag, half white, half pink it sways proudly in the wind.
The castle's mighty wooden gates are open wide, and a carpet
of red and white rose's leaves stretches in front of the
entrance.
Before the gates of the castle, all the creatures of the
forest have gathered.
Proud deer, wise owls and cunning foxes stand side-by-side
beautiful nymphs, brave centaurs and playful pixies.
A hush of excitement passes through the crowd.
Today is a day of celebration.
A single trumpet echoes clear from the top of the tower; it
is followed by the softer, solemn music of violins.
The restless crowd shifts with anticipation.
Two images appear at the castle's gates, a yellow unicorn,
and a purple Pegasus.
Their faultless beauty causes the crowd to sway in wonder.
They march festively together, wearing necklaces of gold.
Pearls and jewels adorn their shining mains. The unicorn's
eyes are blue. And the Pegasus's eyes are bright green. Her
hooves are painted, and she wears a crown of gems.
Gracefully they nod at the crowd, and turn to their
positions in front of the gates.
Behind them emerges a third image.
It is a magical and glorious being. He is called the rider
of spring.
Proudly he marches foreword. His skin is the color of the
clear blue sky, and his main and tail are striped with all
the colors of the rainbow.
The rider of spring wears no ornaments. He needs none.
His beauty is the untamed flourish of nature, and the living
incarnation of spring.
It is as flawless and timeless as the passage of the
seasons, as the trail of the sun over the ocean, and as the
rebirth of the full moon on the star filled heavens.
His orange eyes glitter with infinite wisdom and emotion,
they radiate with pure warm light.
The creatures of the forest stand captivated by the splendor
of their master.
Many of them shed tears of gratitude at his blessed sight.
While others feel compelled to avert their gaze, for such
sublime light is too pure for their hearts, and might wound
their frail souls.
The rider of spring continues foreword. He passes the
unicorn and the Pegasus, and finally plants his hooves on
the leave-covered earth of the clearing.
The music of the violins mellows slightly, as he turns to
speak.
"Greetings." He says.
His voice is as ancient as that of the crashing waves over
the golden shore. And his words are paraphrases of lost
memories, stolen fragments of dreams within a dream.
"The elusive sensation of love cannot be grasped by the
waking mind.
For love is a precious and fleeting raft, floating on a vast
ocean of lucid thought.
It is only in the sheltered and secluded cove of a dream
that one is capable of seeing it for what it is.
Indeed, it is only after the dream resolves itself, and all
we are left with is memory, that we truly know we have
loved.
But wait; do not lessen the value of a memory. Remember that
when the day is over, and life's harvest is reaped too soon,
such memories are all we have to caress.
Pray for those who cannot appreciate innocence and youth.
For they miss-take the cause for its effect, and thus they
say;
'Love turns us all into dreamers'.
And lying to their rest as the years follow, they preserve
their hollowness, claiming:
'It was all a dream'."
The rider of spring turns his gaze up to the amber heavens,
allowing his captivated crowd a moment to muse on that,
which had been said.
The creatures of the forest shake their heads as if waking
from a delirium.
For the words had deeply touched their hearts.
The rider of spring then lowers his head again, he is
smiling and his eyes are filled with joy.
"Call on the procession." He invites.
Hastily the crowd shifts, creating an open trail before
their lord.
The violins sound a festive tune.
A small delegation is forming at the feet of the trail.
An eager looking mouse, wearing a tall cylinder hat and a
bow tie, leads the bunch. His convoy consists of close
friends and relatives.
A squirrel is there, and a hare. A couple of sparrows, and a
grinning beaver. They all form a colorful trail behind him.

The rider of spring nods, and the cheerful assembly starts
marching foreword.
As they advance, they are greeted and applauded by the
excited crowd. Some throw flower petals at them, while
others wave and cheer.
Finally the gathering arrives at the end of the trail.

Everybody takes their place, and only the anxious little
mouse continues foreword to face the rider of spring.
The magical horse salutes him fondly.
The mouse fixes his tie, folds his arms behind his back, and
coughs nervously. Everything is ready.
From the top of the tallest tower, an organ sounds the
wedding march.
Everyone turns their gaze at the feet of the trail.
There she stands, the radiant bride.
A strange and wondrous creature, the like of which was never
seen before by any of the creatures of the forest.
A little girl.
Her fabulous white gown is decorated with beads on the
front, and lace around the sleeves. She is wearing a circlet
of daisies around her head, and a fine white veil covers her
face.
All the creatures of the forest gasp in awe before her.
She starts running down the aisle.
Giggling, she spins under a rain of flowers, surrounded by
beauty and peace and joy.

Someplace, out there, in a small room.
A young girl is lying on a carpet surrounded by her toys.
She is wearing oversized white pajamas, and a tissue napkin
covers her face.
Her legs wave in the air, her eyes are closed and she is
laughing.
Before her she can see all the wondrous things, all the
animals, and the colors and the heavenly music, it's all
there.
Everything is perfect; nobody can harm her there, make her
cry, or tell her what to do.
Not there, in the magic forest in her mind.



היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
בבמה מאז 27/5/05 12:32
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
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