Read First:
This is what you call sitting down, and trying to rhyme and write without any purpose in mind. Haha, it came out kindof funny....
The
Nature Art of
Shadow and
Rhyme.
Too many words have been shared. But it just won't go away, this feeling to outlet, this feeling to let my thoughts stray. And suddenly I realize, life is like a stream, rushing by me, and cooling off my feet. I see a bridge, in the distance, shadowed by the willow tree, weeping with emotion, beckoning me.
Nature comes alive, and rises with the sun, the sparkle of it's glow lingers long after it has gone.Winged creatures fly and whiz about my head, the water rises round me as I drop into it like my bed. I catch a glimpse of berries growing near the fence, ripening in the summer air, desirable and fair. I try to settle my thoughts, and sit along the shore, my ankles float in water, and my eyes close.
The wind comes up behind me and blows against my skin, I sigh and take a breather as I forget where my mind has been. Is it bad to ponder to the point of seeming strange? Is it bad to wander into the land of dreams? Perhaps if I was wiser I stay away from this land, where there is never ending imagination and strangers run hand in hand. But I am not caged to the status of the still, nor am I afraid of bliss forever more.
Angels play melodies that get stuck within my soul, and as I sit in ecstasy, I toss pebbles in the water. Words weave between the trees, like banners of color they capture my eyes; these words are the colors of the artists supply, never ending, and like paint that never dries. I use them upon the brush of my thoughts, they go where I want and are heard without scoff.
Memories try to drag me down into the valley of rain, but they cannot do so because I let them drain, even though they attempt to drive me insane... I whirl my rapper of caution and feel the freedom of my escape as I drop to my knees. Ahh, the loveliness of having purpose, ahh the loveliness of never feeling pain, ahh the loveliness of not caring what is said, nor crippling over vain anxieties.
I dash off into the fields of sunflower, and realize that the sun is setting from the pass of hours. I run free, wild, and run up the road to the white picked fence. The fire flies guide me up the lane, the toads cry out from the pond, in the nearby valley of grain. Their golden heads of hair sway with the breeze, I catch a few in between my fingers as I pass by them in my speed.
And then I see it, the fall of what I feared, the revelation of what I'm doing, that I'm acting kind of weird. All of this fun, all the this fanciful chase, what is it for? where is my place? I've run round the globe seeing the beauty of life, realizing the wonder of what some others have passed by, but although there is awe in the doing of such, I realize that truly, it isn't enough.
The words disappear, the creek runs dry, the fireflies disappear, and the butterfly dies. I sit down on the dirt, ready to cry, but I cannot for the glimmer of hope passing by. I look out between the blades of wheat, and see the souls of a wander's dirty feet. He looks down at me and shares a grin, then reaches out a hand to help me up to him. I question how could he, when I am so low, surely he could consider letting me sit here and moan. But nevertheless, he bends close and whispers in my ear, "Hello, I am reality, but I'm not as bad as the loneliness you feel."
I feel hope, then suddenly afraid...can he see that deep down inside, my mind has been made? I try to brush off the dust from my dress, and act like I don't know I'm looking a mess. I pin back my bangs at the high of my ear, and lift up my chin and look up to his eyes. And what I saw there took my for surprise, for looking right back I see the mirror of time, he was my shadow, and I was his rhyme.
This had all been a fine, fancy, game. My thoughts had wandered and come back round again. Was it all for the sake of escape? I'm still by the water, my hands on my face. I look out beyond the blinds on my eyes, and stop my creative wandering, and wave goodbye to my friend of rhyme. But, it will be o.k, I'll make it just fine, cause I'll take the long rout home on the back road of pines, and all along I'll let my mind be still, cause I won't remember a bit of the journey, until...I see the shadow, and I take the notion...to lose myself in the rhymer's potion.
Pity me, pity me, I cannot get up, I've let me mind wander, and now I'll be paying it rough. Too many words have been shared, now I'll go hiding from the reader's stare. It's all been fun, but now it is through...I've disappeared with the sunlight, and now so shall you...
~ AJ. Childs
