Whispers of thunderstorms approaching, whistling winds and rustling leaves. The cancer-stricken tree looms over the roads, shedding leaf after leaf, mottled and discoloured. Beyond repair, beyond hope. Each day another whitewashing, another choking on exhaust fumes, another downpour of acid rain.
Darkness falls, dim lights gleaming orange; the moon and stars wiped out by the glowing grounds.
Tick, and the mind awakens. The petrichor wafting through heavy atmosphere, drifting lazily in through my bedroom windows. unwelcomed guest kicks start the brain, the sense tingling with the presence of this stranger, this familiar wanderer.
Typing away, eyes straining and words flashing. Studying the night away when the silent stranger settles awkwardly next to me, nudging the spirit animal to action. On your toes now, up on them heels, take to the road and the sky and the trees and grass and clouds.
Each forceful step propelling me deeper and deeper into the night, past the repetitive globules of orange light, past the piercing, tearing concrete, and finally – Earth.
Soft, brown earth beneath my feet: Home. Calm. Natural.
Eyes widen with dilated pupils and widening hearts, scattered and hidden, peeking in wonderment. Come out, children of the night, dance with me.
And we dance, the moon shining her radiant beauty on us, giving us her breath of life, the rain filtered by the sacrificial barks and withering leaves and stems and roots. Fresh, gorgeous blue light, glistening wet skin, the tears of angels at our unrestrained joy and purity.
Sunlight looms, the children run away. Leaden feet dragged back into four walls, plaster and concrete and bricks and paint and four walls, two windows, grills and metal and glass and mirages of nature and freedom.
Back to reading and sloughing and grades and meaning and planning and wondering and contemplating, but never doing and experiencing and flying and jumping and falling. In the glaring, exfoliating, chilling, piercing sunlight.