Spring Birth

Ron Koppelberger

Spring Birth

The nothingness of not being was an overwhelming sensation and a point of ponderous wonder to the moment of birth. The birth of the universe and certain fated destinies that are propagated by the time we use in living. Victoria was born and borne of Lake Victoria, a spring blossom, wild rose and dandelion dander. From the warm depths of the spring that was Lake Victoria, eyes fluttering in premonition of life. Arms flailing in new birth, in nascent dialogues of exploration, she was given life.
Rendered in youth, a gentle curve, corn silk hair and emerald eyes of flame. She stepped onto the rocky banks of Lake Victoria, unscathed, virgin in pristine absolution. Hyacinth nectar and honey dew dreams, she was an unutterable beauty and the blessing of chaste fantasy, sensual allure in naive ascertains of illusion.
The man stood back away from his rendering in quiet benediction. Rebel snatches of oil paint became solid and Victoria breeched the threshold between reality and illusive visions of Eden. Dripping, fresh she stood before the artist in silent betrothal to her creator. The man grinned and wept.