Island of Imagination - Excerpt
It was a magical time, an evening of blue moonlight on rippling ocean waters and foamy spray lapping the seashells on the packed sands where tiny birds scurried amongst the dunes.
The southern cross was awakening in the firmament, as Scorpius was radiant with light - pulsating as a sparkling necklace strewn about the evening - while a jetliner on its way to a distant port of call blinked across the inky night skies awash with satellites, shooting stars and the spectral glowing embers of the Milky Way. Fireflies and seagulls skimmed the surface as dolphins meandered through the coves, chirping their conversations below the rolling tides.
This was an island village set apart from the world, with no fear and no troubles and no earthly human drama - only dense rainforests and floral meadows bathed in luminous vibrations of wet sunshine and afternoon sea breezes. Mornings overflowed with the aromas of pineapple pancakes and bromeliad flowers, and evenings brought dancing, singing and feasting on luscious, roasted mackerel and papaya juice under the fires that steamed and popped and smoked up to the constellations above. Sultry afternoons were spent sleeping in open-air bedrooms with ceiling fans and linen fabrics where shale river-waters ran on cool bamboo to comfort the body and awaken the loveliest dreams of the deepest sleep. There were no quarrels and no unconsciousness - only peace and laughter and a million reasons to love and lust and savor each day of sunshine and sandy beach mango towels.
Alabitha wore a red linen skirt and a relaxed off-white blouse made of silk; her luscious brown hair adorned her voluptuous body and her deep brown eyes sparkled with life, playfulness, and vivid intelligence. Medallions and amulets and charms hung gracefully about her neck, reflecting the moonlight. She was a magnet of love, warmth and vitality, brimming with confident sensuality.
“I’ll always love you, Pedro, but first you must love yourself - as the river poets told you last night in the carnival dream - only you can do that, and it’s time for you to give yourself that blessing so that we can grow together in love and peace. The happiness that you seek is not within me, but within you. It’s time for your quest into the Jungle of Self. Go deep into that dark jungle, on this moonlit night, and find yourself there. Bring back your heart made well in peace, and we will live together in love, on this island, blissfully happy for all eternity - dancing and laughing each night in each other’s arms.” She kissed him, softly, longingly, but playfully with no trace of fear - only irreverent sparkling love and tender affection.
“I love you, Alabitha, always and forever. Wait for me on this island, with the dolphins singing their lovely songs, and I’ll return to you tomorrow, and we’ll dance all night, and laugh all day in a magical dream of never-ending love - and we’ll be as happy as it’s possible to be in this lifetime, I swear.”
“You have my heart for always, Pedro - now go find it for yourself.” She smiled and turned from him, and bade him farewell for the night, sure of his return tomorrow. Her hips swayed in the evening moonlight, her sandals traced lightly across the packed sands and seashells that outlined the edge of the waters. Humid coolness and blue sunset-starlight abounded for miles in all directions, pervading the flat, wet sands that stretched out to the pineapple grove near the edge of the tropical forest.
And so did Pedro leave his lovely and happy island on his little sailing skiff, on a clear, radiant night in the early evening of late July, under a luxuriously ambient black sky crackling with stars and life and fireflies, adjusting his sextant for the endless rainforest of Brazil, just miles from the little island he called home. Deep into the jungle of his heart he would venture, in search of an abiding peace and love of self that would lay the foundation for a lifetime of happiness with his lover on the Island of Imagination.
Carl McCoy, Copyright 2020
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