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Jasmine would often describe her baby as frenetic and fractious. 'She was born with a hurricane for a soul, that one,' she would say. But she said it in a loving way with that soft glow in her eyes that only a mother can have for such difficult offspring. She would rock her in the dead of night when she found it impossible to sleep and she would wear her all day long in a baby carrier so that she would be calmed by the body to body contact. She would soothe her with lullaby's and stroke her tiny back and soft hair. She would whisper sweet things in her ears and cover her with kisses. She would love the hurricane right out of that child and replace it with a sweet summer breeze because above all, she was her baby, and she loved her with a power mightier than the wind.
Blind from birth, the spring was all about the sounds, the tastes and the rising air temperature for Mila. With keen awareness of the frigidity of winter rain, she knew before her keen sighted friends when the winter season was in transition. She felt the breeze kiss her more warmly and let her hands explore the overhanging branches of neighbourhood trees to find the swelling buds- buds that would soon crack open to release the soft papery leaves within.The myriad of verdant hues from the grass to the leaves above were lost to her; but their gentle fragrance never was. She would take a new lush blade or leaf and rub it between her fingers, releasing its perfume. She knew the flowers of her neighbourhood by their scents, either that which they released to the damp air or by crushing a petal to release the aromatic sap. She knew the call of each bird species and marked the progress of the season with their song.
Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams are better than reality. The saddest part of it is, though, that eventually even the memory of your dream will fade - if you are even lucky enough to remember it that is. Then you're left with this lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore in the empty void of emotions, the only proof that you ever had the dream to begin with.
I...left to investigate their house in a low-rent neighborhood with dirt streets. One room with two windows open in the heat, burnished to silver-gray by the winds and fogs of the Minor Sea and raised on wooden posts. It smelled of fish. Their porch was a wooden box. A shed behind the house served them—and their neighbors—as privy. Inside were a fireplace, two beds shoved against opposite walls, a table, one chair, and a cupboard. There were a few baskets, one with dirty clothes, and a tin pail. I didn't see a lamp, and I didn't find candles. The only signs of food were crumbs and mouse scat. The fireplace was equipped with an iron truss, a kettle, and a pot. Under one bed, I found the leather case holding Aetref's lute. There were two, small, leather satchels, which resisted my efforts at spying, and that was the whole of their belongings and squalid life. There were no signs of female habitation or visitation.
"If you personify love even in times of trouble, of hardship or war, then you are truly one of the mighty. I see how no matter the stresses laid upon you, that you show more grace than many do in times of plenty. It is in those moments of pain and fear I see right to your soul and know that my faith in you, my love for you, is eternal.You are brave, kind, always giving of yourself. I want you to know that I will be the same for you; I will be your mirror, bring you what you give others - true love, the lasting kind."
On the plains there were years in which old man winter refused to give up without a fight. Spring would ride in on a gentle breeze, unhindered by any hill. This April air would soothe the embattled flora with its sweet promise of the warmth to come, only to be pushed back by bitter gales and hail. But the spring was patient, always returning in the calm between each storm and each time expanding until it had ebbed out the frigid blasts entirely. Then for some months it rained down both water and soft heat. Some days could still be a blanket of cloud, like the season passed, but mostly they were sporadic and sparse - allowing the brilliant light to strike the fields unhindered. Soon the fields were not brown at all, but swathes of waving green. Always we were in an ocean of white, brown, green or gold, but it was the green I liked best - green stretching way up the mountains in the far north and to the blue of the sky in the south.
On top of the lighthouse with the sun streaming into the windows they sat cross legged on the floor, leaning forward to reach the sandwiches and lemonade. There was something about that place, the light coming from every angle yet cast diffuse by the spring clouds. Though the stairs were steep it was worth every step - peace and quiet, the sounds of nature, a view fit for a king.
The Kids- Spoken Word
We're the kids nobody knows
We're the kids nobody hears
We're the kids nobody listens too
We don't beat the same drum
We don't sound like the rest
We are not fueled by; greed, lust, and fame
We are fueled by; society's rejection, our rage, and our pain
Because we are not mindless slaves
Our lives don't conform
We are more than we seem
We are not just poor kids with a dream
We are the speakers for the kids words can't be freed
The kids like me, like you
That know the world is insane
And we are not afraid to phrase the truth even if we sound crazed
We are more than you know
We are more than you hear
We are more than you listen too
We are more than our rage
We are more than our pain
We are more than our dreams
And I promise you this is not a phase
These are the thoughts in our brains
That makes our hearts pulsate
That keeps us breathing
and fighting to stay alive
We are the kids nobody knows
We are the kids nobody hears
We are the kids nobody listens to.
Don't they say that none of us will leave this world alive? Yet for my part I intend to leave the biggest and most beautiful footprint I can. Maybe yours will be right next to mine, that it is together we walk, together we leave a path to guide future generations.
I'm in love with him.
He never leaves my mind, he's always there; mentally if not physically. It's just incomprehensible. He's my one stable force, my one stability in a world filled with chaos and I so desperately need that in my life. I love him so much for that. I’m in love with him and I can’t believe I’ve only just realised it.
This feeling is so strange; it stretches throughout my whole body. It’s overwhelming, yet makes me feel complete. It has no bound nor length nor depth; it’s just absolute. It feels as though I’m in a dangerous fire, yet I’m completely safe at the same time. It feels as though someone’s given me peace. It feels as though my heart is dancing around my chest; and a hole, I was never aware was there, has been filled. I feel so light, like I’m on top of the world yet my heart is constricting and it feels as if there’s no oxygen in my lungs.
It’s strange – frightening even – how you can go from someone being a complete stranger, to then being completely infatuated by them and wondering how it ever was that you were able to live without them, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine being without them now. I know we’re only young, and most people would consider me to be foolish and naïve, but it’s true when I say that I love him more than I could ever love myself. He’s my best friend and, as cheesy as it sounds, he’s my anchor. My one stability in this world filled with chaos.