Can you hear that?
The sound of drums the sound of the mighty hero He walks with pride and dignity His losses outnumber a million deaths He vows not to interfere with the mysteries he encounters Yet he only gets involved when theres a child crying Sympathy, anger, the visions of an elder warrior Converted to a peaceful and wise Doctor The day is coming Beware Be excited Be curious Let’s do this thing
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A soft breeze blew around swirling the leaves and dead grass around me dancing to a silent song that whistled through the air. I made my way towards the hill the wind playing with my hair gently, pulling it from my face as my skirt trailed behind me slowly. Despair and sorrow filled me as I tried to stay focused on the hard, dusty ground and the sloping hill that was sending me forward. I looked up to find the big oak tree that had been my refuge for a long time. I reached the dark brown oak and laid my hands upon the cool layers of wood that protected the tree from harm. I swung my feet into a crevice lifting myself into the arms of the tree. I nestled myself closely into the tree and finally began to feel relaxation taking over.
“What do I do?” I whispered leaning my head into the cool bark. The branches of the tree seemed to sway down, and I could feel the dark green leaves tickling my skin lightly as if they were reassuring me. For months the decision to leave my family and everyone I love and go on a journey with a stranger had daunted me. “If I leave, then I will never see anyone I love again. I will never sit here again,” I choked out. The wind picked up a bit and I listened hard waiting for an answer as the wind swirled in my ear making a noise to me that sounded like: “Is that what you want?” The wind continued to whirl loudly in my ear and I closed my eyes, and it was like I could hear the laughter in the air, taste the sunshine beaming down on me, smell the wafting smell of summer, and see my family here. There was a big blanket spread out on the green grass below the oak tree I sat in now, and my mom and dad were sitting on the blanket twenty years younger and watching me and my brother and sister climb the big branches of the oak tree. I saw my five year old self climbing as high as I dared go and my brother egging me to go farther while my sister watched from one of the lowest branches. We were laughing and singing and I could feel the love that radiated from my life. The image seemed to fade as the wind died down, and I opened my eyes, reminding myself that I was not five years old anymore but twenty five, yet it didn’t seem to matter. The tree had reminded me who I was and who loved me most and I knew that was what mattered most. I smiled and hugged the tree closely the old, wise branches seemed to warm against my touch and I felt as if the tree were hugging me back. “Thank you for helping me make my decision” I whispered into the branches before jumping off the oak tree and letting the wind guide me back to where I belonged. The rain collects
an ocean and left bobbing boatlike an abandoned shoe swims in water that has been recycled through centuries so that it is swimming in time itself in fluid tocks and liquid ticks treading water in past and future as this water will be used again. The shoe holds in sloping insides a whirlpool of steps taken and dirt collected and combined inside thread and laces. Memories stitched in, stepped in and a future that kicked off that shoe perhaps running from a danger perhaps skipping to a lover perhaps reenacting a favorite fairytale about pumpkins and magic. Perhaps just swept off by the renewing rain Either way, a shoe sits abandoned in the gutter slowly fading until it is part of the rain itself and then reincarnated as spring shoes gracefully fall back into the gutter |
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