Leen Rabbat - 11 Pink: My Meadows

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          The spring breeze caressed my skin as it slowly swept. The smell of roses and dewed grass filled my lungs as I breathed in the fragranced air. The music of nature floated all around me in a nonstop cycle, providing me the beat I needed to dazzle around, barefoot, in the green meadows.

My thin lips curved up in a degree unknown to my being, showering my pearls with light of pure gold. The gold floated around me, entering my very essence, and filling me with warmth that engulfed my inner core and spread like a wildfire.

Then a voice, ever so gentle and loving, called out to me. My heart halted as the vibration shook my being as I was at a loss to describe it. It was as if a lake of warm, sweet honey enclosed my form as I took in the letters of the sun. This voice called to me, beckoned me as my legs took off on their own accord.

On crushed leaves I stepped, moving forward to an anonymous magnet. And then abruptly, they stopped at the edge of a cliff. I looked beyond, and saw a glistening ocean. The light, however, was not reflecting upon millions of droplets of water, rather off of endless numbers of human beings.

They were all clustered together, stuck to one another as if glued. Hopeless hollers filled the air once my presence was acknowledged. They sang to me, their song of declination. How they danced through the meadows, and sang with the winds; how they followed their feet, shuffling to wherever they pleased, even when at the brick of the cliff, until they found themselves in the endless depth of the pit.

I turned around and ran, ignoring the demanding cacophony. My soul glided towards my glittering haven, needing to get back to safety. Finally, I burst through the clearing, smiling as I looked upon my meadows. And once again, I became one with my surrounding as I danced to the whistling tunes of the birds of death.

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