The Last Ray (Prose-y Storylike Lil Number)

The Last Ray

You came to me when I was a dormant seed.

It was the beginning of March; there was still snow in patches on the ground. I was cold, sleeping under the soil.

Many rays of sun slipped past sullen, reluctant clouds and melted the snow, and sometimes warmed it enough by the time it reached me that I stirred, but still I slept.

Over many days, more rays came as the clouds grumbled home more frequently and the soil warmed, but not enough to wake me.

And then you came, the Last Ray.

I remember still the moment you came. One moment I was content to be a seed forever, and then in the next instant, with your warmth, your energy, remaining a seed was the last thing I could ever do. Something stirred deep within me, and with a tiny sprout, I changed forever.   

Other rays would come, other nutrients from the soil, birds and leaves. These would all nourish me in my growth. I’ve made peace with the cacophonous cloud people, for they bring me the water I need to live.

But you, my Last Ray, will always be special to me. It was you that made me see that I couldn’t remain a seed, but could be so much more; that it was my destiny to be so.

I will always love you for that. 

Thank you.

--Aspen
2010