A Call From Below

 

She walked the dusty, winding tunnel,  

A notebook in her hand. 

She listened well to passersby,  

And in her book she planned. 

 

An idle word could bring to life,  

A tale as great as any, 

She wrote as fast as time allowed,  

To bring the tale to many. 

 

Her words would roll off the written page  

Like notes from an organ’s swell 

She blended words with heart so dear,  

She was a master of her skill. 

 

She walked and listened with patient gaze,  

At conversations all around 

Tales of love and heart and sorrow,  

Both Above and Below were found. 

 

 

She wrote and wrote, her book soon filled,  

Of the beautiful stories and woes. 

She returned to her century to write and said   

“Here is how it goes.” 

 

As she wove her tale Above in sunlight,  

Tunnel dust still on her page, 

Her fingers steady on the keyboard’s key, 

 Steady and sure was her way. 

 

She typed the story she had seen Below,  

the story she felt in her heart, 

The longing to be there remained in her mind,  

now that she and Below were apart. 

 

 

Half of her wanted to keep right on writing,  

half wanted to go back to them. 

Who was she kidding, the truth after all,  

was that she wanted to go back to him. 

 

She wrote quite determined to finish the page,  

her imagination a portal to there. 

The story completed, she sat back and sighed,  

‘That wasn’t half-bad,” she declared. 

 

She blew off the dust from the spiral bound book,  

and tucked it away on the shelf. 

The story could rest, for she wrote all the things,  

she had gone down and seen for herself. 

 

 

Now there is nothing, she spoke to the stillness,  

what will I do since I’m done? 

A mischievous smile crossed her life-toughened cheek,  

and in half a second she’d gone. 

 

For what is a world of all the exciting new things,  

if there is  nothing of value and love, 

She quickly departed from her place at the desk,  

And left behind her Above. 

 

Standing, a moment, in the tunnel’s great entrance, 

 she listened for their pipe’s ringing tones, 

A moment, a thought, and she glanced back behind,  

dare she leave all she knew, and her home? 

 

 

“Are you coming?” He asked, and her heart took a leap.  

“Of course” was the phrase she had planned. 

But as her eyes met his, all the words fell away,  

She could only reach out for his hand. 

 

He smiled, quite cheerful, and took it, quite kind, 

 and stepped aside to let her come in. 

She nodded, accepting, her eyes quite at peace, 

 and Above never saw her again.