♫ Happy birthday, mother! ♫
@nerochoros | @songtress | @avecantoraazul | @blessedlancer
NO HEROIC HYMN WAS WORTHY of her courage and strength; and even if she failed to understand the metaphors, the symbols hidden inside the soothing melody, the young man wished for his voice to touch her heart regardless.
His voice was too deep by now to join in her melodic, angelic voice – but even if their former songs had to be altered now to fit him, he felt no longer regret in this change. No embarrassment.
For weeks he had sought to find the confidence; had struggled with the composition of words, the pitch of the tones and the tempo of its overall flow – and perhaps he had been too eager to make it sound perfect to his own eyes so that it would be pleasant enough for his mother’s.
SO MANY EMPTY CANVAS had been filled with her amber eyes and long, azure hair – for too often he had tried to draw her pure, stunning smile to keep it for all eternity.
For a son it was probably a fitting present to simply show her his newest work; but for his heart it was not.
His weapon’s arm had become stronger after this saddening tragedy – and he had found his own courage inside his heart.
He no longer wished for her to see the boy who had always cried shortly before her departure; he did no longer wish to let her see how much the past was still consuming him when he truthfully gazed upon the future. And he was living in the present.
The frightened young boy had become a young man who had learned to protect those he loved – and it was all thanks to her.
Without her he would have never found the courage he needed right now.
SHIGURE APPROACHED HIS MOTHER SILENTLY, wrapping his now seemingly stronger arms around her warm body to give her an embrace like he did in the past – but this time he was taller than her, unlike any other birthday in her life. His lips parted to find the right words albeit he had pondered about them for so many days already, that they were already hiding inside his mind.
‘Mother… I wish you a happy birthday.
I have prepared something for you and I hope you will like it.
Perhaps it is not what you have expected,
but I assure you my whole heart will be singing.’
WORDS WERE WHISPERED NEAR HER EAR, spoken with utmost care and warmth.
He did not loosen the embrace he gave his mother as if it was perhaps for the very last time – the last chance to prove her he was indeed now grown up. Thanks to her love over these many years, even if she never had not much time for him.
HIS SOFT VOICE FILLED THE AIR THEN – it began as mere whisper before the strength willfully returned to his tone ere the melody formed an hymn worthy of a warrior who had only known hope and love. And his little melody, his tribute to his mother’s kindness and courage, lingered in the air even after he had ended after a little while, as if the wind wanted to carry it farther away for all to hear.
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