Stepping lightly, her nimble feet weaved through the various plants. Slowly she approached the center of the field, the sun producing a blue silver haze in the air. Her gaze shifted from the ground, to the sky, to the grass. Her soft, silky hair fell loosely in front of her face as she looked down, her eyes closing as she guided herself blind. One foot took the lead of the other, and then back again. Her arms were held out beside her to keep her balance as she slowly advanced. A smile slowly spread across her face as she took in the smells of the different sources. A smile that served as the only indication to what she was thinking.
When she came to a stop, she lifted her head and looked up at the sky. Her eyes opened and she slightly squinted at the sun for a moment. She took in a deep breath and let her arms drop to her side as she let out the air in a quick huff. She then let her head hang down, looking at her feet. Just then, she saw a small firefly on a flower right at her feet. Intrigued, she slowly bent down to inspect her new potential friend. As she rested on her knees, she brought her hands in a gentle cup around the flower until she surrounded the firefly. With simple, pulsing flashes, the firefly didn't move much as she brought her hands closer.
"There, there, little one," she softly whispered, "don't fret." A quick flit of it's wings served as a response. She noticed it right away; the closer that her hands got to the firefly, the brighter the firefly's glow became. Finding the creature as charming as ever, she closed her hands around the firefly. Just as she did, light shot out of the cracks between her fingers like beams of the sun, brilliant and hot. She was knocked back with a bright flash, and as instantly as it came, the light vanished, leaving only the slow pulse of the firefly. Consumed with curiosity and excitement, her eyes stared at the flower and it's host, waiting for something to happen. The firefly slowly lifted off the flower, and in slow flashes it steadily approached the girl. With a mix of wonderment and fear, the girl didn't dare move. When it reached her, she gently shut her eyes. Almost too soft to be noticed, she felt it land on the tip of her nose for but a moment. After
waiting for what seemed to her as forever, she softened her face even more and looked at her uninvited guest. Now it was hovering in place in front of her, softly pulsing.
She caught sight of a bright yellow light flitting past her on her side, as slow and steady as the firefly, but without the pulse. Then she saw it again, and she saw that it was making large circles around where she sat. Then she saw another, but this time faster. Then, another and another. The noise of them was becoming overwhelming as more and more appeared, a loud swirling like the sound of waterfalls. Each time, the lights spun faster and faster. Soon there were so many of the lights that she couldn't count them all. She quickly stood up and tried to touch one, but they swirled around her hand and continued on. The lights kept multiplying more and more, and soon all she could see was a constant swirling of yellow lights, as bright as day. The light was getting so bright that soon it started turning white, and they started closing in on the girl. Neither ground nor sky could be seen, the brightness hiding the world around her. She shut hers eyes
tight and bent down, hugging her knees. There was a sudden, brilliant flash that she saw even with her eyes shut tight. Waiting to see if she could hear anything, she sat motionless. There was no noise, no movement, and she couldn't feel anything. Not even the grass beneath her feet. She slid her eyes open, and looked ahead. Then she looked behind her, and to her side. It was the same all around. All she could see was white...motionless, silent, evanescence all around. White.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Butterfly's Dream
Hello, there! I've decided, after some motivational moments, to write a new mini blog for any spare time I might have. There might be a little while between posts, but I'll do what I can to keep it interesting.
Are you wondering what the Title means? Look it up! Nah, I'll tell you. It means 'Storytime', basically. So this blog will be a mixture of poems or stories, fictional or no. Some mine, some others, if they allow me to post them.
This post is rather vague in meaning. Of course, it makes perfect sense to me, but alas I doubt too many of you (if any) will understand. That's ok. The Butterfly mentioned here is not actually a person. Not yet. If any of you remember it, this post ties in with another post on another blog. Confused yet? Maybe. *shrug*
:]
There is a story that tells of a Butterfly, soft and delicate. This Butterfly was filled with Dreams. As the story goes, the Butterfly stayed safely in its Grove, fluttering gently through the leaves and grass. All its life it stayed in the Grove, never wandering far from the Great Tree that sat in the center.
However, day after day the Butterfly’s Dreams wandered beyond the Grove. Staring up into the sky for hours on end, it would often get lost in thought:
“I envy the clouds…Free and far from the ground…I wonder what it would be like to join them one day…but how could a Butterfly touch the sky, so far away?”
Alone with its Dreams, imagination filled the gaps that the eyes could not see.
“I’ll never see my Dreams if I never touch the sky. High above…just like the clouds.”
Thus, the Butterfly left its Grove one day. Alone and unsure, but determined to touch the sky, it set off on an adventure to find what it did not know. Many days it fluttered, and many nights it forgot sleep. Months stretched into years, and the Butterfly continued alone. Eventually, though, the Butterfly learned to touch what could not be reached, to see what could not be found. Over mountains, and through woods. Under the deeps, and through the sky, the Butterfly continued searching.
As the time drew on and on, the Butterfly became weak. Its wings tired of years of searching, and its heart yearning for something it didn’t know. Reaching its end, the Butterfly fluttered down to the ground and tried to keep from closing it’s eyes.
Slowly the Butterfly’s breathing slowed…its heart beat softly, and its eyes heavy. Just before it slid into death’s sleep, it heard a voice nearby that kissed its ears and soothed its weary wings.
“My…are you ok, little Butterfly?” It said.
The Butterfly glanced up to see the source of the voice. There, just in front of it, was something that it had never seen before, but had heard about. The Butterfly was able to manage a question to the stranger:
“Are you…
Are you a Koi?”
Are you wondering what the Title means? Look it up! Nah, I'll tell you. It means 'Storytime', basically. So this blog will be a mixture of poems or stories, fictional or no. Some mine, some others, if they allow me to post them.
This post is rather vague in meaning. Of course, it makes perfect sense to me, but alas I doubt too many of you (if any) will understand. That's ok. The Butterfly mentioned here is not actually a person. Not yet. If any of you remember it, this post ties in with another post on another blog. Confused yet? Maybe. *shrug*
:]
There is a story that tells of a Butterfly, soft and delicate. This Butterfly was filled with Dreams. As the story goes, the Butterfly stayed safely in its Grove, fluttering gently through the leaves and grass. All its life it stayed in the Grove, never wandering far from the Great Tree that sat in the center.
However, day after day the Butterfly’s Dreams wandered beyond the Grove. Staring up into the sky for hours on end, it would often get lost in thought:
“I envy the clouds…Free and far from the ground…I wonder what it would be like to join them one day…but how could a Butterfly touch the sky, so far away?”
Alone with its Dreams, imagination filled the gaps that the eyes could not see.
“I’ll never see my Dreams if I never touch the sky. High above…just like the clouds.”
Thus, the Butterfly left its Grove one day. Alone and unsure, but determined to touch the sky, it set off on an adventure to find what it did not know. Many days it fluttered, and many nights it forgot sleep. Months stretched into years, and the Butterfly continued alone. Eventually, though, the Butterfly learned to touch what could not be reached, to see what could not be found. Over mountains, and through woods. Under the deeps, and through the sky, the Butterfly continued searching.
As the time drew on and on, the Butterfly became weak. Its wings tired of years of searching, and its heart yearning for something it didn’t know. Reaching its end, the Butterfly fluttered down to the ground and tried to keep from closing it’s eyes.
Slowly the Butterfly’s breathing slowed…its heart beat softly, and its eyes heavy. Just before it slid into death’s sleep, it heard a voice nearby that kissed its ears and soothed its weary wings.
“My…are you ok, little Butterfly?” It said.
The Butterfly glanced up to see the source of the voice. There, just in front of it, was something that it had never seen before, but had heard about. The Butterfly was able to manage a question to the stranger:
“Are you…
Are you a Koi?”
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