A little girl chooses her stone just before dawn.

It is a special stone, sits by the lake with the other ones. Grey and flat, lightly speckled with infinite stars. All the stones are the same. They have the same size, shape and colour. All with the same stars carved on them by the Goddess.

But hers is different. Hers is special. She can tell. It isn't how a speck is different from the other ones. Or the way the stone shines in a particular light at dawn. It isn't even due to the way the grass grows below it, wispy and long, swaying with the spring breeze. This is her stone. She simply knows it and acknowledges it. Just as a person will find a soulmate, she has marked this stone.

The little girl kneels solemnly next to the stone and places a flower on it. The flower is yellow, a favourite among the other villages. Its six petals are lighty tinged with red; crimson droplets within a bright sun. This flower symbolizes many things. It tells the story of the Creation, of the joy the Goddess sowed onto this world, bringing to the people the spirit of Love. This tale is long and convulated, a story for another time. Here, it is the girl's hour, her placing the flower of meaning, onto her special stone.

The task done, she stands up again and turns around, facing the forest behind her. She looks around her, watching the surroundings. The land is empty except for her, but she is yet not alone. She knows the spirits of the world are there, just as they attend every girl that comes to the stones. The girl nods in respect to the ones that carry the story, and begins to hum a tune. It is a common tune, one sung at bedtime. All mothers sing this song to their children, just as their mothers did before them. The girl's voice begins unsure, cracked with nervousness at her unseen audience. But a gentle breeze picks up and caresses her cheek and suddenly she knows the spirits will not judge her. They want to hear her sing.

So she does. The girl's voice picks up in volume. Her song soars into the sky, lilting and pure. The grass rustles in anticipation just as the trees sigh in sweet reminiscence. Her lyrics are ages old, never forgotten, ever-lasting.

Sing my child of a time in the world
of a time in the world
when the Goddess held
our hearts inside her hands

Dance my girl to a song of a song
to a song of a song
that the stars played
at night with the moon

Run baby with a soul hand in hand
with a soul hand in hand
of the flower that
you placed onto your stone

And then you'll sleep my love you'll grow
and the world will turn around
with the rainbows
smiling high above our heads

And the world will turn around
the Goddess she will smile
upon the hearts of the
people that can love

The girl's voice falls silent after the last word. The song has ended, the story istold and the world sighs wistfully. The tale still echos throughout the land, and will be around for another millenia. The spirits nod their approval, their applause and roars of praise become light breezes, touching and clamouring for more. The girl beams sweetly just as dawn breaks, bright rays of the sun catching everything in a single moment. A perfect moment. The land sighs again and the girl knows her Goddess is proud. With a slight skip of joy, she runs back towards her village, skirt flying behind her, to tell her mother that her flower has been placed. Her soulmate will come one day and she will be a woman. Tonight, the world shall celebrate in song.


happy valentines people.... stupid day for love, fellowship and infinite song. wheee.