The Swan Queen
Once Upon A Time there was a lovely Queen who married a handsome King. They had two exquisite children: one playful Prince and one precocious Princess. Together they laughed, danced, adventured, and were beloved by all their kingdom.
Life was Heaven on Earth.
Then one day, the handsome King ventured to a far off land called Law School…never to be seen again. The Prince and Princess were confused and heartbroken. As were all the people of the land.
The Queen wept day after day, week after week…
Until a valiant knight came upon the Queen (his armor shiny indeed). He wiped the Queen’s tears. He invited her to dance…and dance they did! He fed her delicacies, talked with her of books and truth, and held her in his mighty arms.
The Queen was joyous once more.
One evening, she implored him to remove his heavy armor and let her gaze upon his heart. The knight refused. This confused our Queen; until she and a neighboring Queen, who knew the knight well, indulged in a stroll together.
Our Lady saw with her own eyes scrolls the knight had written to the neighboring Queen…while he was intertwined with our fair Queen. The neighbor spoke of amorous desires she and the knight had exchanged — mere moments after the knight shared similar notions with our Queen. Moreover, the neighbor was privy to the names of many other queens the knight was courting. Where did he find the time?
Our Queen realized why the knight wouldn’t remove his armor: he was no knight at all — but a serpent with a silken tongue. And where his heart should be: a withered pit.
Well, dear reader, you can imagine how the Queen felt. Yes, that…and that…and especially that.
She allowed herself to weep — not for the loss (for certainly there was no true loss) — but for the fact there are people in this world who bring harm, when it is so much easier to bring joy. Then she did what anyone does when they find a snake in the garden…
She lopped off its head! (Metaphorically, of course. Killing is frowned upon in the kingdom.)
Whilst this personal tragedy unfolded, an even more insipid global tragedy struck. A virus, who shared a name with Southern mead, struck the land. Many lives were lost. Fear grew in the hearts of the masses. People were ordered to the land of Quarantine.
Cut off from what she loved to do most–share dance with the people–our Queen fell into a deep despair. At first, she tried dancing on her own. Whilst that provided some respite, it paled in comparison to dancing in the safety and warmth of another’s arms.
Hopeless and alone, she turned to the spoils of the vineyard.
Ate everything in the larder.
Watched everything on Netflix. (Save “Tiger King”. After all, some standards must be upheld even in the darkest of times.)
Dear reader, speaking plainly: she hit rock bottom. Judge not; for whilst the Queen knew she was perfectly capable of ruling on her own with grace and a certain panache — she realized life is more fun when shared with someone you love.
Meditation kept her alive.
Hikes through the forest lifted her spirits.
Magical technology (named after dashing at great speeds) connected her to her council. Indeed, it was a beacon in the darkness (especially considering she could wear pajamas and no one was the wiser).
The land began to heal. Small gatherings were permitted once again. Some of her council recommended she seek her mate via the Ultimate Matchmaker:
After some time, she consented–but found mostly jesters there, concerned with matters of the flesh.
Finally, armed with her pen, she began to write. She wrote of woes, of adventures, she even wrote country songs. (One hears that’s the thing to do when faced with tragedy.)
She put down the vineyard’s bottle. Its luster long gone. She filled her kitchen with vegetables from the royal garden. She sought wisdom from books and wise elders. And wisdom she found.
“Ask for a miracle” it said. So she prayed. For grace, hope, and above all, love.
Sweet reader…God granted her all three.
The Queen realized she was not merely human. She was a child of the Universe, Source, God (it matters not what you call It, It is Love and all good things). Being thus, she could soar like a swan — high on the wings of Its love. She needn’t look outside herself for grace, hope, or love. They were all gifted her, upon birth, by the Universe.
The Queen need but ask…and believe. As do we all.
Gloriously she soared: wind in her hair, joy in her eyes, gratitude in her heart. And should a dashing male swan find her someday, so be it.
Trust he won’t find her weeping.
She implored me to share her story here, with the hope it may provide a guiding gust for all those who have forgotten how to fly.
The…Beginning
