The Portal
12-11-2017, 12:23 AM
I wished impossible things on blue stars that never came true
There are few things in the world quite as beautiful as youth.
At first, the world is shining brightly. Every petal on every flower, every leaf upon every tree, every hair on every living creature - all of it shines with the wonderment of discovery. The sensation of newness pours loose from every crevice of the world, filling your mind and lifting your heart until it soars.
Just as youth is full of discovery, though, it is also filled with sharp pain.
You begin the world new, open and ready to discover what it has to offer, only to discover quite abruptly not everything is joyous and shining.
You remember your first heartbreak in excruciating detail. You remember your first real injury so well you can still see the scars long after it's healed. You remember the first rush of disappointment when something - or someone - fails to meet your expectations. Each blow hardens your heart, slowly turning it to stone or encasing it with ice.
Anything to drown out the pain that comes with living.
Supposedly, there is a way to return your heart to the same naive beauty that youth has, but I do not know how. At least, not anymore.
As my teal eyes fall upon the earthen maiden, they linger longingly on the plumage of her wings, noting briefly the avian companion sitting upon her shoulder beside them. I want to ask her to raise them high, as high as she can, and take flight, but not a sound escapes my lips. I stare at her half-grown, half-child image with a solemn expression instead, allowing the envy to flow through my veins freely. Ah, how wonderful it would be to return to a day when I was so young.
The impossible is almost always what we desire the most in the world.
I'm tired. My ears catch her voice, breathed into the air with a weariness defying her apparent youth. I wonder how the world has already managed to tear apart the heart of this young lady. Perhaps, I should count myself blessed for the years of sweet, ignorant bliss.
"Are you going to give up, then?" I ask, a question often reserved for myself in times of difficulty. When I wanted nothing more than to shrug off the mantle I wore through life, I would stir forth some sort of stubborn resistance through the simple question.
I doubt she will respond the same way.
Yet, most young people are strangely similar and stubborn.
Maybe, it is what she needed to hear.
"Would that be easier?"
At first, the world is shining brightly. Every petal on every flower, every leaf upon every tree, every hair on every living creature - all of it shines with the wonderment of discovery. The sensation of newness pours loose from every crevice of the world, filling your mind and lifting your heart until it soars.
Just as youth is full of discovery, though, it is also filled with sharp pain.
You begin the world new, open and ready to discover what it has to offer, only to discover quite abruptly not everything is joyous and shining.
You remember your first heartbreak in excruciating detail. You remember your first real injury so well you can still see the scars long after it's healed. You remember the first rush of disappointment when something - or someone - fails to meet your expectations. Each blow hardens your heart, slowly turning it to stone or encasing it with ice.
Anything to drown out the pain that comes with living.
Supposedly, there is a way to return your heart to the same naive beauty that youth has, but I do not know how. At least, not anymore.
As my teal eyes fall upon the earthen maiden, they linger longingly on the plumage of her wings, noting briefly the avian companion sitting upon her shoulder beside them. I want to ask her to raise them high, as high as she can, and take flight, but not a sound escapes my lips. I stare at her half-grown, half-child image with a solemn expression instead, allowing the envy to flow through my veins freely. Ah, how wonderful it would be to return to a day when I was so young.
The impossible is almost always what we desire the most in the world.
I'm tired. My ears catch her voice, breathed into the air with a weariness defying her apparent youth. I wonder how the world has already managed to tear apart the heart of this young lady. Perhaps, I should count myself blessed for the years of sweet, ignorant bliss.
"Are you going to give up, then?" I ask, a question often reserved for myself in times of difficulty. When I wanted nothing more than to shrug off the mantle I wore through life, I would stir forth some sort of stubborn resistance through the simple question.
I doubt she will respond the same way.
Yet, most young people are strangely similar and stubborn.
Maybe, it is what she needed to hear.
"Would that be easier?"
RAEIN.
