Garden of GoldA Story by Mila Where do our secrets go when they appear? What happens to them when they are told? Garden of Gold
In the deepest, darkest and farthest recesses of every man’s mind was a path to a garden of gold. This garden, unlike the rest, was made only and entirely of glittering, shining, rich, gilt-covered flowers and pathways. The arches were gold, the fountains were gold, the gazebos were gold…even the grass was gold.
The gold was pure, for no man could taint it. It was created by the one thing human kind purposefully struggled to control: imagination. It represented the rich and perfect. It represented the poor and desolate. It was the aura of hope and desire as well as the toxins of jealousy and avarice.
But who protected such gold? A guard clad in gold-plated armor? Perhaps a witch of the darkest sort…or maybe even a monster hidden somewhere in the caves underground. Alas, none of these were true, for the garden was protected, not by creatures of the wildest imaginations, but two women instead. Creatures, one would say, of the most fantastical imaginations.
The Light protector and the Dark protector. These two sisters walked the paths of the golden garden every day and watched every blade of grass, every petal on a flower and every leaf on a tree. These small things were of much more value than what made them, for they held the world’s secerts in them.
Yes, indeed, every secret that ever was for any man of humankind to walk the Earth was held in those flowers. Dark secrets, stimulating secrets, happy secrets and sad secrets. All of them, every single one, without fail, were tucked deeply into the petals of the flowers.
Dark protected the secrets that were already told. For those were the most vulnerable to abuse, and she was the only one with a polluted soul enough to hear them. She heard their whispers from one person to the next and, as the flowers glowed around her as they received the words, the secret itself spread like wildfire, and changed even more.
“He saw her without her clothes on…”
“She took her clothes off for him…”
“I heard that they had an affair…”
“I think she is his mistress…”
One after the other, they came. It would have shocked mankind to know how fast their secrets spread. The glow of the petal represented the next person to hear it, for it became their secret as well, until they told another person.
“It would be best to hold your tongue and tell no one.” Dark whispered, “No one can hurt a secret they’ve never heard.”
Light protected those untold secrets, for they were precious. They were pure and as untainted as the gilt that protected them. For her, the flowers only glowed when a new secret was born and, when it was passed on to another, the flower would wilt and Dark would receive its glow. Every day it happened in this way.
It would do so for the rest of time, until there were no more secrets amongst men.
“My heart breaks for those who tell their secrets to another.” Light wept to her sister, “The flowers die, as does trust.”
“But dear sister, do not weep for them!” Dark exclaimed, “For when one flower of yours dies, twenty more bloom in its place.”
But they both knew that those newly bloomed golden flowers carried the weight of sorrow, mistrust and betrayal. Many new flowers for every secret told and passed on, but only one for an untold secret.
“I can only hope the day will come when merely one secret will stay in its place,” Light said, “and the flower need not die.”
“That day will come when a man takes the secret to his grave.” Dark replied.
As that was said, a new dawn was breaking. As Light and Dark took to their paths, the flowers bloomed, wilted, glowed and spread. The fields of the garden of gold were full of secrets both told and untold, but there was only one secret in the golden Tree of Life that would never be spoken…
For it was the secret of life itself. © 2014 MilaAuthor's Note
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MilaSt. Louis , MOAboutALL WINNERS FROM MY CONTESTS WILL HAVE THIER WORKS FEATURED ON MY WATTPAD ANTHOLOGY WITH FULL CREDIT GIVEN TO THEM! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WELL BEFORE HAND IF YOU DO NOT WANT ME TO FEATURE YOUR WORK! A.. more..Writing
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