November 15, 2009
By , Seattle, WA
The Hours were counted carelessly by her. Last she remembered, her tears being caught by her grandmother’s hand, the weathered root of a rose. Summer had stolen her away from the girl, and she watched as the old beauty became a cloud, bearing pastel skin and a silver halo of hair. From the cloud rained our tears, which froze with our hearts. It was winter.
So she couldn’t tell a soul. She faded in color and slept, abandoning those she loved. She shook during her slumber, reliving nightmares of happiness and torture. She knew she would never know love again, never look forward with the bright eagerness of a n infant. She would never again see the sun of her childhood, so she’d live in the darkness of her choosing. Then one day, the earth was dry. Empty of tears, because the roses had left her all alone. Stillness woke her, and she saw on the ground a little frozen tear, turned solid from the earths touch. A seed. Staring at the strange little form, she cradled it in her blue fingertips. Warmth returned to her as she planted the seed, turning the earth beneath her hands. She gazed with a new ferocity until she saw a flower, and new hope formed within her heart. It was spring.
Freedom. Release from the terror of losing loved ones, tossing worries in the deep blue lake near her childhood home. Hope flourished under her radiance and she shone like the brightest star on the earth. She was on fire, growing wishes until they bloomed, then harvesting them and filling the air with their scent. She laid in the grassy hills, let the wind sweep away all her clouded thoughts. She was as carefree as a bird. Restoring health and life to her heart, living like she’d never lived before, it was summer.
She had been happy, but still she was all alone. Energy died, and the heat slowly drifted back to the core of the earth. Living in silence, the world moved on, yet the girl gave up her happiness to boredom, who them haunted her day by day. Sitting on the hills, the wind no longer blew all her worries away, but was still as if expecting something to happen. The clouds rolled it, and still she sat inanimately, quiet as a blade of grass. She had been so powerful, filled with hope. Now, as the sun died down the girl deflated. Falling softly to the welcoming earth, her heart turned the colors of a dying star. With each passing want, with each secret she held, doubt settled over her mind like dead leaves from a tree. It was fall.

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