Love's End?


Love’s End Is Love’s Beginning  

Little Cherub, Crispus, was flying undecidedly slowly through the forest. Such a Gloomy Gus he was. His bow and arrow held so limply that if he bumped into something he would surely loose his archer’s weapon of love.

He flew by a magnificent banyan tree, but he didn’t notice so caught up in his woes was he. The banyan tree noticed this sad droopy cherub sputtering by. She rustled her brilliant foliage to get his attention. But his gloom was deep. She stretched out a leafy limb to tickle his pink plump belly. This made him smile a bit and hover to see where this distraction was coming from.

Silvania swished her leaves to introduce herself and invited him to share his heavy burden. Crispus sighed a big sigh and realized how heavy his woes of love were and decided to let fall his bow and arrow and sit at the base of Sivania’s trunk in her comforting roots. They were so smooth and long and snake-like, like the rivers he sees from the clouds when he looks down to earth. It was lovely there in her dappled shade.

He spoke about how love seems to be dying. Everyone so focused on these flat boxes, some the size of people's hands and some the size of people's laps. No one looks up anymore so mesmerized by the noisy light discharging from these boxes. They can’t see the light in one another, or the light in a beautiful tree like her. Silvania and Crispus both sighed a voluminous sigh together, for this was a tremendous woe indeed. 

He was comforted so deeply by her whispering silence, her expansive canopy, and the light that radiated from her that his woes lessened breath by breath. He continued his tale until all his heartbreak about love’s end ended. 

Now that he was free from heartbreak and his tight little grip on his purpose released, he realized that this is where he wanted to spend eternity. He asked Silvania if she would mind him resting in her roots forever and ever. She was so delighted she promised always to shine her light and he promised the same.


This short story came about as an inspiration to a post in Judy Reeves' monthly news letter newsletter inviting writers to respond to a photograph she took at the Ringling Estate in Sarasota, FL.