I wrote this in class today. I'm not sure if it's a short story or a poem, but I like the way it flows. It's kind of a conglomeration of my responses to the artwork of Antonio Suarez (http://dreamsandrubies.blogspot.com/
) and the music of Mons Chan (http://www.monstunes.com/
), both of whose blogs I recommend for some great art/music, as well as my own feelings towards spring. Here it is. Enjoy. :)
A new dawn had begun to break, and remnants built of yestereve's thick dew did cluster, old and fresh, small droplets of debris and hope. She stood in silhouetted silence backlit by the morning sun, wisps of dark brown hair afloat in lazy, graceful curls about her face. A lonely freedom surged within her breast, the winter having passed, along with various cadavers of herself whose burials from which she had just recently emerged. She was a fresh, new She, and all the other Shes did whisper in unwavering approval their own contrasts to herself, and to her joy, she found the earth itself was fresh, was new beneath her untried feet. Tender shoots of dreams, perhaps some called them crocuses, explored the chilly air within that ambling and suspenseful brink before the proper plunge to spring. A bottle tipped into her palm poured forth its purple, sketched and re-sketched waves to weave stop-motion-like, this creature for to mesmerize.
A smile played light upon her lips as glancing up to find their source, she felt soft hand-drawn paper leaves glance gently off her blooming cheeks, and over there a little way, apart from where she stood, perhaps another world in which to peer, she watched an older She limp painfully along within the broken dappled clearing, sunlight spots now dancing and now still upon Her face. She watched as She grew silent and unmoving, then in unexpected turn of these unusual events, a smile broke and grew upon Her careworn, aged face, as hobbling there on crutches through the broken dappled clearing, He approached, and She and He embraced, their hands to clasp, their hobbling gaits to synchronize. Releasing then the future, or her reverie thereof, she took a breath, invigorated by the smells of earth and life and air, and through that heady substance felt herself incorporate into the great sublime.
- SharaLee Topnik
March 5, 2010