We ride for a while within the watery depths. I can't see what carries me, but I know exactly what it looks like. Its shape is that of a large dragon, and it glides with power and certainty, until it gently lands, becoming a soft mist around me.
Before me a little girl kneels before a plush velvety couch, sherbet orange in color. She is sporting jeans and a navy shirt with thin red stripes. The sleeves descend just below her elbows. Her hair is pulled up high in a ponytail, and it bounces to and fro as she manipulates something in front of her.
There is something soothing about the noticing of these details that orients me, drawing me in and at the same time nudging me to remember.
The little girl is reaching her hand in a large plastic funnel-shaped object and removing colorful shapes. After removing several, she reaches in making a sweeping motion with her hand, but her hand is empty when it reemerges. She turns the object upside down and shakes it to make sure that nothing remains inside.
I sit down next to her on the floor, surveying the scene more closely.
The little girl's face is shaped like a heart, her eyes are soft as she examines the funnel.
The funnel is fashioned in the shape of a human ear.
I close my eyes and sink into the heart of myself.
Ready to listen.
Darkness swirls about me erasing the scene with the little girl, but somehow I know that she was fashioned out of the clay of my being, and has never left.
Before me a little girl kneels before a plush velvety couch, sherbet orange in color. She is sporting jeans and a navy shirt with thin red stripes. The sleeves descend just below her elbows. Her hair is pulled up high in a ponytail, and it bounces to and fro as she manipulates something in front of her.
There is something soothing about the noticing of these details that orients me, drawing me in and at the same time nudging me to remember.
The little girl is reaching her hand in a large plastic funnel-shaped object and removing colorful shapes. After removing several, she reaches in making a sweeping motion with her hand, but her hand is empty when it reemerges. She turns the object upside down and shakes it to make sure that nothing remains inside.
I sit down next to her on the floor, surveying the scene more closely.
The little girl's face is shaped like a heart, her eyes are soft as she examines the funnel.
The funnel is fashioned in the shape of a human ear.
I close my eyes and sink into the heart of myself.
Ready to listen.
Darkness swirls about me erasing the scene with the little girl, but somehow I know that she was fashioned out of the clay of my being, and has never left.
I'm ready to listen to every word you write...
ReplyDeleteNext page, please. :)
Shivery goosebumps, Brooke.
ReplyDeleteThese are the words I was fashioned to listen to x
Wow! I am hungry for more and more. Love you, Dad
ReplyDeleteSo evocative!
ReplyDeleteBrooke, it is so wonderful to come over here and take in all the beauty you are creating. I look forward to coming back for so much more of your writing. So moving. Definitely writing from the Soul. Thank you for being so beautifully you.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful piece of writing Brooke. I am holding the funnel close to my ear. I am ready to hear the whispers.
ReplyDeleteLove Nige X