A Field and a Girl

There’s a girl in a field, surrounded by memories. The grass is still green, the trees are breathing in their last hit of color. She has gentle eyes, striking eyes that can see through most facades. She’s just closed them, lifting her nose to catch the chilly waves of autumn bowing across the last chapter of summer. The sky is trying in vain to hug her, move its massive arms around her sturdy body and hide her far from the gnarled fingers of time that wants desperately to claw its map of spent moments on the pure porcelain paper of her skin. The grass begins to gasp with its green clothing wilting until just an invisible line of remembrance remains- adding to the book in the girl’s mind.

Trees make up one wall of this field a helpless girl sits in, a back parking lot, and a row of trailers and an invisible barrier only seen by those who know the detail and life of the suffering space as intimately as she does.

The trees are still breathing, but just faintly. Swapping green dresses for red and brown coats that will eventually shrink and fall and lay dead among the weeds at the bases of the strongest beings the girl has ever known. Her home sits in familiarity on the other side of the street behind the wall of foot long backyards so many meters away. A red building lays exhausted on the border of the old lot behind a store that has long since closed their last door. The concrete has been frozen to the ground after the last pair of wheels and feet left it to seep their heat into the unforgiving air. Faded yellow lines give the poor slab a face, like so many others, long forgotten by many, but most certainly not the girl. The grass stretches like a thin, desperate hug, clinging for dear life to the soon to freeze dirt that’s been the giver and taker of its short lived life.

The sky, with its swooping wings and wild mind can only watch as tears of past life slide helplessly down the girl's face. Tears that will bring a new patch of life to the ground on which they fall and sink into, with the warm springs lays happily and casually across the town and that sacred ground.

The girl falls to her knees, seeing her life play out before her sad, sad eyes. Bikes and Popsicles and a kiss and a friend. A dog and a birthday and markers and time capsules.

The girl lays down with silent tears with the winter and the snow sent to cover her heart, and freeze all the goodness and translucent purity, until the next spring can wake her soul up to new sunshine.

Reviews

[.]

~ damn...! ~ this has to be one of the most water colour paintings written by anybody... every line, every word, every image astounds... beautiful beyond beautiful... i love this heartsong... shall always treasure it... this is magic potion flowing from the heart of the poet to the heart of the reader... moving beyond measure... and... inspiring beyond measure too...

[Wolfwind]

Not many pieces do I read that can define the emotions of elegantly beautiful and mind shatteringly sorrowful all within the same weave. I remember reading this piece quite some time ago, yet I couldn't review it then... it created an explosion of raw emotions that I simply couldn't contain. Needlessly to say... I walked away from the piece. That explosion was one akin to a childs temper tantrum. Likening it to wanting to slam fists against the table screaming No! No! No! You've got it all wrong... That's not the way to see it!.... Reading it for a second time now... It still resonates inside me in a way that is discomforting... But I understand where that feeling is coming from these days.
For me...these words and the emotions that they embrace are the very reason I step forward in life. Memories are the building block...no matter of them being bad, sad, good or joyous.
The reason this piece got to me the first time as it did was because I was to stuborn to see that others don't tick like me... Some have to have the negative emotions there as justifications for being able to feel the good. That's the balance the last two lines speak to me of, and that bring me to tears each time.

Overall...I love this piece. It's wonderfully put together and its able to carry with it such powerful and riviting imagery.

Okay... I'm done rambling now. =)

Aaron - Wolfwind