By Sonia Beard on Thursday, January 27, 2011 at 3:19am
I whip my fingers through the glistening crimson puffs of powered mist once haunting the hollows of my mind.
My mind searches fervently and desperately for a silhouette, which once stood steadfast-a gentle yet slight and silent trace of emptiness is what I find.
A tremendous smear of old and a forcefully unrelenting gash of wind send me further into the unlikely and unknown.
The signaling shrill of the emerging majestic eagle shakes the earthen hemisphere-my trembling hands primp and prod something that was beating kindly…slowly pulsing…enclosed in stone
I float forward like a flimsy feather, onto my nimble knees and tired hands.
Splashes of surreal solemn promises slide gingerly tracing aged etches of strange foreign lands.
The slowing chill in the dewy damp air collect, blossom, and contract giving way to sporadic visions and sight
I sacredly lift my heavy lids and I clench onto my soul with all my might.
Pictures dance freely, gaily, in tune with the child-like laughter, a conquering male grin, and a solid sturdy oaken tree.
The images start to fade off; soundlessly slip…my melodic mind wonderingly whispers…Where is he?