THE MUSIC GOES ON (photomorph) & A TALE FROM SCHEHERAZADE'S WELL (short-short dream based story) by Roswila
A TALE FROM SCHEHERAZADE'S WELL
This is an old, old tale from the land of Scheherazade's well, stirred up by the winds of change. Set in a time when magic was still possible if soon to be forgotten. And a King not a Congress, still ruled the people, advised by two powerful Sheik's. One at each hand whether he roamed the kingdom, or sat at the castle's large marble conference table. The one on his left, promoting the needs of the crafts folk and herders. And the one on his right, the principles of the wealthy and educated.
We come to this story as the King is enduring persistent talk from each side. Both Sheiks deeply believe it imperative that gold be allotted for an investigation of a particular composer. A musical genius whose work was ancient long before their own time. The meaning of the composer's three long and odd sounding names "just must be determined" asserts the Sheik on the right. And the one on the left, pushes for a full history of the composer's life so that it can be "politically corrected."
The King is unusually curt with both his long time advisers, cutting off their wordy if genuinely held beliefs with a single chopping hand gesture. He straightens his crown, brushes down the folds of his robes, and bids them to follow him from the castle. The crowds of pack animals and country folk part quickly for them as they walk onto an open, dusty, tree-lined road beyond the castle. Evening has begun to settle along with all the dust as the King finally speaks:
"There! Listen! Do you hear it? The composer's music? It lives in the trees and wind and earth once again. See? It sparkles in the dust that stirs wherever we walk. And the people are playing and singing the music once more, everywhere. The composer's name? The history? Pah! This is the significance, and this the highest use. As living memory, coloring this sunset, these trees, this road. This beauty is all we need to know. And it comes to us freely. As freely as this handful of dust I hold out to you. Listen closely! You can hear the stars singing within it."
[story based on a dream of 4-15-15. This one had me up in the wee hours, drafting it. It's the one I mentioned yesterday in the comments to another dream about a King from the same night. Yesterday's source dream was "up close and personal." The source dream for today's writing was like a fable or fairy tale, and quite long compared to most of my dreams. Photomorph "The Music Goes On" (1-22-10 19123v8) by Roswila]
There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers, as the above is), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.
[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's connections & other blogs: Charter Member of the United Haiku and Tanka Society (UHTS); ROSWILA'S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL; ROSWILA'S TAIGA TAROT; and TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.