Once a young girl lived her entire life at the top of a tower;
Lost in her dreams and the bits of reality that floated in the window:
A feather became a phoenix friend
A sprinkle of raindrops on the window ledge--a storm she but barely survived.
A bare thread of song on the winds--a beloved soulmate just out of sight.
That was all well and good for a child, even a young maiden. But what now? Now she is a maid, and they do not tell stories of old maids up in towers.
She peers out her window to the world below
To the young ranger walking silent on a mission all his own.
To the philosopher unaware of the trees he passes as he teases out life's threads.
To the fae elf king calling his dark Selkie maiden from the lake’s moonlight.
She would go down to them. Cut her hair and leave her dreams. Brave her dreams.
But how would
What would she
she is alone.