Litera

Cast through a wicked whirling portal, flailing

Among stardust and murky acid ink spots,

Not daring to breathe lest I shatter

In this swift loss of vibrant lands.

Now place a new, traversing dusty roads

With a red book of lover letters in hand

To seek echoes of your wandering soul

Amidst lies of love and dark dreams.

Memory may be trapped in old stone

And your cruel prison has no solid locks

But your words write a narrow way
And I hope they’ll lead us back home.

Goodbye

The words fastened to my heart,

And weighed it down to an ocean of sorrow.

Hope, a newly budding, young flower

Is trampled underfoot by harsh reality.

The colors of life have washed away,

Faded into a still life, an empty grey.

I had so many dreams yesterday,

But now all I hold are dreary ashes.

I don’t want to say those words,

They make the happening much more real.

You may forget who I am,

Forget all our memories of laughter.

I don’t want to say a tearful

Goodbye.

Flight

The eternal waiting,
and then sudden movement,
slowly crawling, speeding
faster forwards until
the in-between time,
the jump upwards
between earth and
far away heaven.

Echoes of Jane Eyre

(I just finished watching the newest version of Jane Eyre for probably the fourth or fifth time and the emotions really spoke to me this time, inspiring this.) 

 I have felt pain of the highest degree, both within and without. My very soul has been brought to the edge of humanity, held hostage above the fires of hell. My dreams were given abundantly and then torn away with even greater zeal.

 I was led upon the highest hill on a summer’s afternoon and then abandoned when the rains began to fall. My very heart has been filled with rapturous joy and then torn out of my body, leaving behind a gaping, oozing wound.

 I was a wraith, a shadow of my real self. My empty soul drifted without a destiny across dreary rolling hills. Rain fell and hid my tears, though they fell without ceasing.

 In the darkest of valleys have I journeyed and despite every hope, the nights remained long. Every hope did its best to thrive but as a plant with no roots soon withers, so did every hope.

 Every night was an eternity of its own, with the mocking whispers of memories surrounding. Your laughter, every sweet, love laced word, every unintentional yet fully intentional touch. All of these things now ripped away, save the taunting echoes.

 Yet despite every hurt, and the hollow ache, I still live. Despite how broken I have become, still, I draw in breath and then release it. When all tears have been cried and all words have been said, still, I live. Though the never-ending darkness resides with me, the light still shines upon me as well and I live. 

Supper Time-The Distressing Ordeal

   Sometimes, I think adults forget how truly difficult life is when you're only five years old. Oh, sure, it's all fun and games, that is, until it's supper time...then begins the distressing ordeal.

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  I always ran to the table when it was supper time, so that I could eat and go back to my play time. About two minutes in, it already became apparent that while I could eat as quickly as a ravenous wolf, the rest of my family had become a herd of turtles, intent on eating as slowly as possible. After looking up from the remains of my meal, it was painfully obvious that play time would just have to wait.

  The adults really enjoyed their talking while they ate, but as a five year old, all I could think about was the toys that were calling out to me. They were begging, pleading that I return to them as quickly as possible. How could they understand that I was chained to my chair by the "we don't get up until everyone is done eating" rule? Would they think that I had abandoned them? The more these dreadful thoughts filled my mind, the more I wriggled in my chair, mentally urging my family to eat faster.

   Finally, my family was nearly done and I was ready to bolt from my chair. However, my mother finally looked at my plate and said, "Oh, you haven't touched your bean-spinach puree. You have to finish that before you can get up."

  Utter despair filled my heart. Tears began to well up in my eyes. "Mom, I'm too full."

She smiled and I felt hopeful. But then she said, "Well then, you can sit here until you're hungry again."

  I started to panic, seeing that everyone was going to get up soon. Glancing at the loathsome green mush, I wished that it would just grow legs and walk back to whatever vile place it had come from. This was just so unfair. I hadn't asked for this puree, so why should it keep me from my valuable play time?

  Desperately, I began to come up with ways of getting rid of the dreadful substance. I poked at it with my spoon, spreading it around the plate so that it looked eaten. Then I managed to "accidently" drop some on the floor. I put some in my mouth and then asked to go to the washroom, where I disposed of it in the toilet. Still, when I came back, there was a noticeable amount left on my plate and I had run out of ways to get rid of it.

  Everyone else was done and had started to leave the table, off to better things. I watched my older cousins leave to go play, and a longing pulled at my heart. They simply couldn't understand the torment I was going through.

  My mother began to clear the table and I started to plead with her. "Mom, I can't eat this. I'm allergic."

 She shook her head. "You're not."

  I tried a different tactic. "Well, it's not cooked enough. So I can't eat it."

  Looking at the puree, she sighed and said, "Yes, it is. Now hurry up and eat it so you can go play."

 She was about to leave and I knew that I had to take drastic measures. "Mom, if you let me not eat this, then I'll clean my room, I promise."

  My last hope left the room, not even dignifying my bribery attempt with an answer. I was lost.

  At this point, I wasn't poor five year old girl anymore, no, I was a captive princess who was an orphan and was being tortured in a dark dungeon by evil trolls who liked to make food out of snail vomit. They were forcing me to eat it because they knew it would make me fatally ill and I wouldn't live to see tomorrow.

  I had to stay strong! I would never give in! I would sit in that chair till the end of the world, if I had to, but there was no way I was going to eat the puree!

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  Two hours later, my resolve finally began to crumble. Not only was I hungry again, but I was also bored out of my mind. My imagination could only last for so long at a time.

  Feeling terribly noble, I picked up the spoon. Though in all likelihood this green stuff would kill me, I had to eat it, or die of boredom. Grabbing onto one last scrap of imagination, I became the brave princess who would suffer through this to save her people. Everything depended on me eating the bean-spinach puree and I would willingly suffer for my people.

  A few bites and then three cups of water later, I was done. I had come through the valley of darkness. As I got up from the table, legs wobbling a little bit, I thought I could hear a choir of angels singing. I had completed my trial and could now reap my reward of play time.

  As I put my plate in the sink, my mother came into the kitchen. "Oh good, you're finally done."

  I nodded proudly. She began to wash my plate. "Well, go brush your teeth and put your pajamas on. It's time for bed."

  Needless to say, that night, the orphaned princess had escaped from one dungeon, only to find herself in another one, left alone to plot her revenge.

The Birth of a World

  A great ball of flame travels through the burning darkness. Hissing, spitting, flying at unimaginable speeds. Nothing else can be seen, nothing but the hot, red light. Hurtling through time and empty space, forever and ever….

…until it starts to fall downward, through a dark blue fog. Past the fog is a murky darkness, an ocean of black glass. The fiery sphere sinks into the blackness, engulfed and vanishing. For a moment.

Only.

  And then bursting forth comes a new thing, still on fire. A bird, crying out into the silent night. It flaps its’ giant wings, sparks and flames leaping off as if alive. The bird flies upward, rising far above the ocean. Fiery light shines, cutting through the formidable darkness.

 The light, the hot reflection, spreads across the dark expanse, farther and farther the higher the bird flies. A cry from the burning creature and dark shapes rise up from the water. Sharp towering land forms, cutting through the glassy sea. Pushing and fighting in desperation, spreading like fire.

  As the land continues to rise and spread, the bird folds in its’ wings and drops towards the land. Just before it’s too late, it spreads its wings once more and glides across the new ground. As it does, its fiery wings skim across everything. Little trails of fire appear and spread, forming together into strange shapes.

  The fire burns for a moment and then melts away, leaving behind green things. Some tall and some short, all alive and ready to live.

  Another cry from the now dark red bird causes more motion in the black water. Splashing and commotion, and shapes appear in the water, fighting to get to the land. All sizes, making all sorts of noises, two of each similar creature. Many make it to the land and decided to stay. Others remain in the darkness, finding comfort in the still calm. All of them start to discover things, enjoying this new life.

  But the darkness is still very foreboding, the water, and all around them as well. The flaming bird gazes at everything as it glides above them all. They are happy, but they need something. Two things.

  Great wings flapping one more time, rising higher than before, light shining across the entire world. All the animals watch in amazement at the shining figure. The bird gives a final cry, and then explodes into a billion drops of fire. Most of the droplets rain down on those below and they begin to dance in joy. Several of the droplets, however, form together into a perfect shining sphere, and hangs there in the sky, chasing away the darkness, and giving warmth.

  The animals finally begin to disperse, ready to live their lives, but then they stop when they see something else in the sky.

  A flaming feather, gently floating down to the newly created earth. As the creatures watch and wonder what it means, the feather splits in half and falls to the ground. As they watch, two new creatures appear and stand before the animals.

And so that world began.