Autumn…. The leaves, the chilled, earthy aroma…. So very mellow…
Come friends, we miss you. Our kingdom misses your presence. You have fallen into a deep abyss, and you are lost; I can see it in your eyes. But every abyss has a crevice for a shed of light to shimmer. We have built you a ladder friends, come join us once more. It is not a far trek, and the journey will
bring much rejoice. We will be waiting, so we may all dance with the sun on our backs.
I feel your hands, creature. Do not pretend they go unnoticed. Your chilled, diaphanous fingers make my voice box turn to ice. I cannot speak. I am lost, lost to only talking with my conscious. I must wade in my own silence, and it is oh so lonely, so vague. How dare you, creature! How dare you let me be fooled to think I may speak! I will not be fooled by your mockery of freedom any longer. I must be free! The light slowly intertwines my being, creature, and your cold soul is no longer. The fingers are gone. Oh joy! I feel so light, so free! I open my mouth to sing with the robins.
The pen and paper call to me… The swirls, the patterns, oh my!! Art, you are a true beauty…
Another outing to the Huntington Gardens…
The perfume of sweet blossoms dancing in the air. The goose’s calls echo across the field. I feel at home, and yet I do not know this to be my sanctuary. The trees, flowers, beast small and large… These beings are my home…
|Jon:||Up and at 'em Garfield! There's a big, wide, wonderful world out there!
|Garfield:||True... But there's a small, soft, warm bed in here...
I sway with the sunshine, his kisses glowing bright upon my skin. The petals hold my hands, and I hope this moment last eternally. Water trickles down my face, and I look to the sky to receive its embrace. The wind sweeps me off my feet into a surreal dream land. The trees giggle at my joy, and I curl my toes and reach out to their leaves so we may dance. My body tingles with surprise, my chest gurgles with laughter; the heart swells with wonder.
The rubber burns into the air, their speed skidding across the empty roads. The engine sputters, drips of gasoline trickle down in despair. The tune of the car cries eerily, its hums with the cold depths. I stare out into the barren wasteland, the smog hugging the land so tightly it chokes and struggles for beauty. The trees are merely a disguise, a shield from the horror; they are ashamed of the grey infinity, they guard their children from the illusions. I look out, in search of a light, a beckon… anything. There it is. I feast upon a beauty so pure, I shiver with excitement. A world of wonders, of change. The sun rains down upon his children as they children dance with the wind and trees. I see joy and, oh! I see freedom.
"From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines"
"A true artist is not one who is inspired, but one who inspires others."