The Garden
Rating: PG
Category: Mild angst
Setting: During the Rise of the Empire
Summary: Reflections of a Jedi Knight.
Spoilers: Speculation for EP2 and 3
Feedback: C'est muy bien, nomo arigato! sleeperdown@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.dreamwater.net/pottedcactus/erjika
Archive: Yes! Go for it!
Disclaimer: Don't own em, no moolah for moi.
Series note: bowing down to etcetera is a series of stories based on e.e. cummings poems. They deal with a wide variety of subjects, but most will be based on romance. The complete poem will be either at the top, at the end, or interspersed in the story.
this is the garden:colours come and go,
This is the garden. Time shall surely reap
frail azures fluttering from night's outer wing
strong silent greens serenely lingering,
absolute lights like baths of golden snow.
This is the garden:pursed lips do blow
upon cool flutes within wide glooms,and sing
(of harps celestial to the quivering string)
invisible faces hauntingly and slow.
and on Death's blade lie many a flower curled,
in other lands where other songs be sung;
yet stand They here enraptured;as among
the slow deep trees perpetual of sleep
some silver-fingered fountain steals the world.
He walked through the gardens of Naboo. The hush of the night filled the air. At one point, it could have been beautiful, but now it was too silent, almost ominous.
He paused at a flower bed, the blossoms pale violet in the moonlight. They seemed to sparkle in the breeze. Amidala had said they were the last of their kind. A finger reached out and outlined the delicate petals, not quite touching. Not wanting to corrupt something so rare and beautiful.
He followed the narrow dirt path to a grove of trees. The gentle branches swayed in a murmur, the leaves capturing the moon.
He wrapped his cloak around him tightly. It was cold, so cold. And Naboo was never cold. So much was changing.
He reflected on the most recent events. More worlds were crumbling. Palpatine, whatever he decided to call himself at that moment, was swiftly undermining the entire Jedi Order. So much was dying, yet it was not even the beginning. Something worse was going to happen.
He closed his eyes, and the garden turned black. Blood filled the fields of endless grass. Flowers were trampled in a fight for survival. Death, everywhere. The palace walls were cracked, blast marks staining the once-proud marble. Screams filled the air with pain, reverberating as the defenses faltered. The Force was torn apart, so much anger, so much agony, so much of the Dark Side it was smothering everything.
He opened his eyes. The garden was as it was, crystalline and silver-limned. No battle cries, only the sweeping of the leaves and the faint roar of the waterfalls.
One of the pale, delicate blossoms broke off in a sudden breeze, tumbling farther along the path.
He shivered. It was a cold night.
~finis~