The cloud called arrogance and the momentary lapse of the iris...

At the beginning of your life it is easy to say how you would live it, but Maysa never thought she would be standing right here, stuck right in the mud she so adamantly insisted she would never step on. But like I always say, it is often too early to say I will never, until we have gone through it and really turned away. Because at the beginning of your life it is easy to be stuck in the cloud of arrogance where you think you are better than everyone else. Maysa basked in that cloud a minute too long, and then she stumbled and found herself right in the mud.

Truth be told I couldn't say I didn't want to stick out my self-righteous finger and wave it about in that I told you so fashion, after all I wanted to say serves you right but when I took a look at her face I cannot help but remember me. And so I relaxed my judgment muscle. That was a dark place I hate to see again, but each time I walk close to that tunnel my muscles tighten and I swear I could feel the creepy crawlies under my skin. And there were days I felt them crawling out of my pores. I never know if I am over that stretch yet, maybe I am in the field of daffodils, just some rainy days, or maybe I am still stuck in the mud, dreaming about the field of daffodils, God knows. I certainly hope it is the former. But was I strong enough to extend my hand to her, I am unsure. So I watched her, hoping she could pull herself up.


I must have a conscience apart from my cold heart for I often see her face when I go to sleep at night. And I find myself walking back to the spot where she is stuck just to see if she is still there. So everyday I watched her, and everyday I walk down this road from the fields of daffodil to this swamp, just to see. And not that I am helpful, I just stare at her. I am still unwilling to extend my hand. I guess I have always been non-committal and I must say I have seen many drown in that black hole, sometimes I shout out loud enough for someone else to hear and help, but never have I wanted to get myself wet, nor stick my feet into that mud. I didn't want to start sinking in. Conscience without the courage. I can laugh out loud, not that it is funny, but it is my life story. And that is why I keep coming back to this swamp. There was something I needed to conquer.

So to hell with it, many nightmares and loud voices in my head later I managed enough courage to step onto the mud. But I should've known that in her desperation, she pulled me down into the mud with her. And so now I am stuck in the mud with her. I cannot say I am not angry with her, angel-faced or not. I do not dare tell you the amount of swear words that raced through my head at more than a hundred kilometres an hour, faster than I could control anyway. And I cannot say I did not think of her in the worst possible light. But I let her hold onto my hand and I closed my eyes and mouth so tight, just so I would not let out the best of the anger that is seething inside. There were names I could think of to call her that I think only the devil can carry but hey, I was angry. So I stayed still and silent for a while. Until I began to feel the creepy crawlies, not around me, but crawling out from inside me, and what a disgusting being I can be. And then the weather turned to grey and the thunderstorm came, whether it was just inside me, or all around me, I did not care to think about, but where I was concerned there was a thunderstorm. Yes, the dark place I never wanted to be, she managed to drag me back there. I tell you I could wrestle god a million times over for letting me come here.

And then I guess I have a ltitle bit of strength in me after all to fight back the creepy crawlies. I turned to look at her angel face and smiled. And she, relieved there was someone with her cried many a tears. So we joked and laughed to relax the muscles and when night came we hoped and prayed that someone would get us out. But as I closed my eyes to sleep in the moonlight, in the swamp, my head went ahead of me. And I began to trace my steps back to the time, where I was alone in the swamp, and how I managed to find my way to the fields of daffodils. And as I traced I spoke aloud, so she could hear me speak.

At that time not so long ago, I was stuck in the mud alone. I was on my way to fields of gold, when a momentary lapse of the iris pulled me away, I know. The dark little elves said that this was a short cut to heaven, and so I walked across the swamp, and then I walked right into the mud, and got stuck under, five feet seven. The elfin men laughed and sang as I sat choking in black sand and then they left me there, at my own imagination's mercy. I struggled and wriggled to my dismay, I went deeper under, and I realised that I needed help to get me back up and over. I closed my eyes and the white knight appeared to me in a dream, and said dear one you remember me, the one who told you where you should go, no shortcuts you can take, onto the fields of gold. And he fed me with visions and dreams of the fresh green field of daffodils and I ligthened up, and hoped all night, that I could get out. I won't take no shortcuts no more, I said to mr knight. And alright he said, and to my delight, he came to my rescue. He struggled alright, in those white tights, and his horse had mud up to his knees. And yet he fought so gallantly and swiftly made it, with me. And I rode off on the back of the knight and I was oh so glad, when he sat me down on the side of the road, on dry, and hard land. Are you not taking me with you I asked him earnestly. He said, dear one, you have to walk, it is just the way it is, there are no shortcuts to fields of gold, and there for you i will wait. So I walked hard and long, and it seemed almost an endless plight. But guess what, dear one, I said aloud, I got there, nice and dry. The fields of daffodils is not just a dream, it is real indeed. and guess what I whispered to her, there is a house, with your name on it. She smiled and hope brigthened the day and she asked me how she could go. I breathed in and whispered, my darling girl, there is no shortcut to the fields of gold. Relieved, I got up so effortlessly and made my way home again, and she I know will make it home, and I will meet her at the gate. Conquered I have my darkest fears that the daffodils were a dream, for I know now what is real, and what more now so does she.

Then the man in white, rode past me, and smiled and I clapped with glee, he said, you must have told someone about me, for she called out loud and clear, white knight come save me. I understand now the reason why I lurk around mangrove swamps. Because I have stories to tell, of fields of gold, daffodils, white knights, and my own journey home.