By Tessa Knutson
Moonflowers bloom under spidery red trees in november
Pomegranate seeds litter the ground
Planting their hollow offspring
Red like jewels
Dead
Like you and I
Midnight sky dainty and shred
Stained blood red and twilight blue
Wind howling it’s haunting tune,
Luring you into a deadly sleep
Roots growing six feet underground
Where the dead sleep
Where the dead meet
Where the dead touch
Electrifying
Enchanting touch
Where the dead fall in love
When the dead fall in love
The leaves die and fall
Down
Drifting
Brown
Crushed
Butterflies
Yet we watch them wondrously
As if they were something just as alive
As our love
By Emily Smith
“How lucky am I to have something so special, that makes saying goodbye so hard” - Winnie the Pooh
A sunny day, like one you’d see in the rural areas of England in the farming fields of
Manchester where the wildflowers grow a vibrant purple. The sun shone a delicate golden hour ray; one that rejuvenates the soul. The grass was like a soft polyester knitted blanket, the kind a grandmother gifts for christmas where time is the secret ingredient.
A little girl lies there in the middle of this natural bliss next to an old weeping willow.
The kind of willow someone would seek for advice from, one wise beyond its years. If cut in half, there’d be a gazillion dark rings to resemble its years. The child's skin, mind, and whole being soaked in this unforgettable moment at hand. She couldn’t be over the age of six, for she radiated innocence. Her hair, skin, face, and even smile hadn’t been corrupted just yet.
The delicate lighting glistened her golden curls and accented her street of freckles across
her nose. She wore a bright yellow sundress, the kind a mother makes a child wear for Easter, with creamy brown flats where a red flower lays at the tip. In her right hand was Lamby, a soft, delicate plush lamb who was trapped in a suffocating grip. He embodied this little girl, for their personalities were similar. Lamby was a gentle, kind, caring companion whose loyalty lied with everyone around. He was sheltered from every danger and evil substance. What is evil to this little lamb? For life is just bliss to this little plush. For this was Lamby, so then the girl would be. She loved her innocence and was ignorant of her admiration, for all she wanted to do was dream.
Examining the sky, she finds big white puffs; cumulus clouds her father calls
them. Each cloud is shaped in a creative, mysterious way. Her eyes travel the sky moving left to right, landing on clouds shaped as a hardy elephant or a delicious cupcake. Picturing what it would be like to be up there in the white paradise. Questions filling her mind like, “Would I be able to stand on them? I wonder what they'd taste like? Could I be able to see China from that far up?” There were so many questions and they all stayed unasked. For the truth may hurt over the fantasy, so curiosity stayed within.
“Hmm I wonder where E is” says a voice so familiar yet faint.
The little girl or “E” as her family calls her, laughs the kind a child gives while being
tickled and the air is slowly leaving its lungs from exhaustion. Then everything goes silent. The realization hits her like a stack of bricks, the location is compromised. There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide by this old willow. The only option is to become the tree now, the last resort. The technique is to push tight up against it and hope for the best. The hairs on her arms slowly start to come up like when static is running across skin. She knew her fate came close, losing the game. But that is the beauty of the game isn’t it? Hiding then being found?
“BOO!” yelled her father using both hands to grab the little child and swiftly swings her
upside down. Letting her hang there until she eventually said “Dad I can’t feel my legs”. He swings her to her feet and watches her wobble her way back to stability. Laughing, he grabs her smooth, young hands to guide her to normality. “Better?” he asked with his blue eyes peering into the little kid's soul interested in every thought within her mind. “Dad, can you swing me now?” said E while looking at her father with a pouty face irresistible to say no to. “Fine,” he said, “now hand me your hands.” Once her hands reached her fathers grip, she was off to flight.
It is unlike any other experience, one only a child can understand. Hands secure in her fathers, swinging in circles to fly through the air. Any fear? No, for she is with her father, safe in his hold. Leaning her head back, letting the fresh air fill her lungs, soaking in this innocent moment; the kind only an adult can remember or dream about. The momentum slowly dies out then she realized that her feet have grounded back to reality. What was unreal was reality for this little dreamer for one moment, then was snapped back into reality. That's when she wakes up, it was only a memory.
Growing up was never an option for this little girl, but time said otherwise. She grew, and
she grew, and she grew. Eventually, she became the woman she was created to be. She was thirteen now, laying in bed at three in morning awoken from her unattainable dream. Staring at the wall straight across from her bed, trying to make out the objects within the dark. Enough light seeping through curtains to see what she is searching for. Lamby, the object of her childhood, something that will stay infinitely uncorrupted–Innocent. Then she starts to cry.
“Why must I grow up?” she says softly letting her crocodile sized tears flow. “I want to
be a child forever. I want to stay innocent” she declared to whomever may hear. Childhood memories start to flood her mind. Pretending to be asleep in the car so that her father would carry her to bed, stair sledding with fuzzy blankets for extra speed, strawberry picking on a nice sunday afternoon; all things she looked fondly upon. “Why must childhood end?” exclaimed the girl in frustration. Then it came, as quick as a hummingbird flaps its wings, she remembered something her father told her once, “You’ll always be my little princess no matter how big you get. Childhood does end with adulthood, but it is a bigger, new adventure you're going to take. It is scary, not knowing what will happen, but isn’t that the thrill?” Those words stuck to her like glew. She was going into a new chapter, one where innocence will slowly pass away, Lamby had to retire. But isn’t that the thrill?
The world was scarier than she thought, it was a rude awakening to say the least, but it
was also a beautiful beginning. For it took this experience for her to realize how thankful she is for growing up, that there is a beauty to it. For life doesn’t truly begin until it is someone's own. Independency is its name. No matter how old she becomes, those memories will live with her, but life has so many memories to offer. It is an adventure to be traveled down, that was the hidden desire secretly hidden within all the childish wants. All her dreams sought one thing–fantasy, but she didn’t realize that some of the things within her dreams were obtainable only if she was brave enough to seek them. For dear reader this is all a fact, and how do I know this? For she was me.
Eternal innocence was my goal, meanwhile an adventure was truly what I sought in
secret even to myself. For I am a discoverer, seeking out the road laid out for me. Playing the cards dwelt at birth, that someday I’ll cross the finish line knowing that it was a heroic adventure.
