The woman's task was done, and a great tiredness came over her. She lay her head down on a bed of mossy grass, and she slept.
The woman slept as the grass grew to surround her body in a cocoon of green. She slept as wars came to ravage her land, and as peace followed to resow the seeds. The woman slept through the cries of children, through the tears of mothers and the rage of fathers. She slept as flowers opened their petals out to feel the touch of sun, as trees thrust skyward, as rivers carved watery paths through the earth.
The woman slept through seasons, through torrential rains, through crippling drought, through fires, through earthquakes, through storms and tempests both natural and of man's creation. She slept as things changed, as they remained the same, as the others tried to figure out which was which.
The others begged the woman to awaken; but she would not, for her task had been immense, and her need for restful nourishment unmatched in the history of man. The others turned away, and the woman slept still. She slept for so long, she became a myth, a legend, a figure of conjecture and ridicule. Yet the woman knew none of this, as she lay with her head on the mossy grass, in perfect repose.
The girl heard stories of the woman in her youth, and fixed her mind on finding the sleeping lady. She abandoned home, family, comfort and dreams in order to seek the truth. She journeyed long and far, listening to ancient tales of sleeping giants to help guide her closer to reality. The girl travelled for so long, she was near the end of childhood when she finally found the cocoon of green, hidden from the world for so long.
She said, "Woman, I am come. Sleep no more."
And the woman was awake and in front of the girl within an eyeblink, and the girl felt herself wrapped in warmth and strength and thousands upon thousands of years of knowledge, light, and happiness. And the girl knew it all in an instant, and wished to never leave the life-giving grasp of the woman, now awake from slumber for the first time.
"But what was your task?" asked the girl. "What did you do those many years ago, that you must sleep for so long?"
The woman smiled, her face alive with awakeness, but still as calm as before.
"I had to empty my mind," said the woman. "Free it from all thought until one could come to waken me,
"But how can you give me this strength?" cried the girl. "How can you know what it is to be alive, when you have been sleeping, empty of mind, far away from the joys and the troubles and the history of the world?"
"I do not know," said the woman. "How can I? I have been sleeping. I am learning from you."
And the woman freed the girl from her embrace. The girl lay her head down on the mossy grass, the truth weighty on her soul. Her mind raced, then slowed, then emptied, then stopped. Her task done, a great tiredness came over the girl, and she slept.
My apologies, I am extraordinarily tired and really have no idea what the hell this is all about. I think I've been reading too much Phillip Pullman...