Stepping beyond the door I found myself looking over a banister on to the floor below me. My eyes followed two majestic spiral staircases to the left and right. One went up to a floor I couldn't see, the other went down to the floor below. Before I could get too distracted I heard the clanking again. I saw a door against the right wall and eagerly padded down the immense staircase. At the foot of the stairs I walked to the solid looking door and timidly turned the handle. The left wall of the hallway I had just stepped into had one wall comprised entirely of glass.
This huge window overlooked the sun shining on a paradise full of vines and flowers of every shape and size. Every shade of blue graced the greens of the garden. Beyond that there were only hills, hills of rolling green. At their tops, they played with the sky to make a bumpy skyline. The celestial blue was so deep. I stepped up to the window, close enough to make my breath fog up on the glass, and looked up. It was the kind of sky you could fall into. What a beautiful day it was today. I contentedly took in a lungful of air. There was a smell; it was sweet and delicate. I turned and followed my nose to a beautiful deep cherry door.
Placing my hand on the handle, I made to peak in, but it jerked forward and threw me to the floor. I found myself looking at a pair of shoes. Not just any shoes. A pair of very nice leather dress shoes. Gently draped across the top of these shoes were the cuffs of some silky pants. Above that was the bottom of a dress vest, and poking out of the top was a blue shirt with a line of small, round, fabric buttons. The top three of which were undone to reveal the base of a cream marble neck. The head resting on this beautiful neck held a wonderful face to match. In the middle of this granite carved masterpiece lay my eyes, my angel’s eyes. He swooped down on one knee, bringing his face close to mine.
“Let me help you.” His sweet breath splashed across my face, as I looked at him dumbstruck. I didn't notice his open palm waiting for my own in my intoxicated stupor. The melody of his voice still rang in my ears. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised as he literally lifted me off the ground with one hand holding only my arm. I barely had time to get my feet under me before he let go again. I looked at my arm, and thought about the feat he just accomplished as the static once again began to creep into my ears. I winced and closed my eyes.
“Are you well?” His smooth voice immediately cut through the static. It was a rich sound, like the mid tones of a cello. I opened my eyes to look at the empty space where he was when I left him, only to find him half way across the vast room holding a chair out for me.
“Come, take a seat darling. You look quite pale.” Even from that distance his eyes stopped all my thought, but I did what he said. I don't think I could have stopped myself from crossing that room. In the moment after I was seated, and my eyes weren't upon him, I was able to see what was on the table.
Peach scones on a silver platter, and a delicate tea pot sat next to a silver kettle with steam coming out of the elegant spout. The surface itself was a small and round, adorned with a smooth tablecloth. Three little porcelain bowls, and one tiny ceramic pitcher were arranged neatly on a small dish near the teapot. My mouth started to water a bit; I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
“I love the close of spring, don't you?” His voice caught my attention, and I saw him looking out the window, with his back towards me.
“Everything is blooming brilliantly, and fully. The chicks and the fawn becoming stronger. The buds and the branches are swelling, reaching out towards the mild, midday sun. The breeze is gentle, and the rain is nurturing. Life is growing.” With that statement he tuned his head and looked off into the distance, pensive.
“Summer brings sweltering heat and deluging rains. In drought, creatures seek shade and water. In monsoon, nature's denizen hunt refuge from the rising tides and the streaming sky. Life is enduring.” The presentness returned to his expression.
“Autumn comes with changing colors and falling leaves.” He said this as he turned and crossed the wood floor toward the table. His walk was soft, silent, and deceptively quick. It was a contradiction in it's self. A mix between the smooth tip-toeing of a cat, and the leisurely movements of a wonderer's amble. As soon as he reached the table, his hands went at the table's inhabitants busily. Without missing a beat he continued on with his sonnet of the seasons.
“Bright colors mask the cracking and crinkling that seeps into the branches and petals that were once so animate. They hang on the tips of the plants until the wind takes them in a stalwart gust and placed haphazardly where it stops. Discarded, by even the wind, they return to the earth. The animals must find better shelter from the cold, their green homes striped bare by the uncaring wind. Life is dieing.” The sweet smell of tea started to permeate the room.
“Then Winter comes, cold and cruel. All things hoping to live through the ice and snow must sink deep into concealed burrows. The tress retreat into their bark encasing,  waiting. The animals sleep, torpid, tucked away from the season's harsh handling. Life is dormant.”
“Everything is quiet, and calm. That is until the uprising that is Spring. Spring is the rebirth.” He leaned over the small table and slowly touched my chin between his curled finger and his thumb. Shivers of stunned excitement tingled at my spine. He looked right in my eyes as he quietly foretold:
“Spring, is the beginning, my love.”