The Isle of the Apple Trees

The Isle of the Apple Trees        
          
     It has been twenty years since my true love passed through the crack of forever. She told me she would wait for me among the fruit trees. But she made me promise not to take my own life.
     Therefore, I need a way to heaven which keeps my body safe and sound. I pray to the Goddess to ride me on horseback across the sea and into the arms of my beloved where I long to be.
     Niamh, woman of the Otherworld, rides me on a magical horse that gallops over water on the golden path made by the sun on the ocean. She brings me to the isle of apple trees where people like fruit on a high branch are unreachable to the grim-picker.
     A man says, “Welcome. My name is Eóin.”
     A girl says, “My name is Eimíle. We haven’t seen anyone new here in a long time. Where are you from?”
     I tell them about the horsewoman who rode me across the ocean blue.
     Eimíle says, “You must be the one Avril spoke of.”
     I say, “You know where Avril is?”
     Eimíle says, “She is safe, back in the village. She was really worried about you. She will be glad to see you. We should go back.”
     We walk back through fields ripe with grain and orchards with apples and oranges.
     Avril is sitting in a thatched-roof hut eating. When she sees me she jumps up and hugs me. She says, “I’m glad to see you Cian. But I pray you didn’t drink Hemlock to hasten your passage.”
     I reply, “I come here hale and hearty by a magic horse.”
     We walk out into the field and sit down. Avril says, “I want to stay here and have children with you. Will you stay here with me and make this your home?”
     I say, “It’s hard to believe we found this place. I want nothing more out of life than to have children and grow old with you. But the Orchardist said there can be no children here. This is the fountain of youth which the ancients sought. But the price of rosy-cheeked eternity is impotence.”
     Avril says, “Let’s go back to earth. Cian there are many beautiful women on earth. Don’t ever leave me.”
      “I will follow you all my days my love. We will find in the cusp of our embrace gentleness,” I say.
     In the blink of an eye, my Goddess reincarnates my honey girl and me into unborn changelings who find their homes in the wombs of mothers. The Moms jig together in the waves of their coastal town because their supposedly barren wombs bore fruit. Once again my apple is reachable to the plucker of souls.