Untitled | Teen Ink

Untitled

January 1, 2010
By GirlWithWords SILVER, Mc Donald, Tennessee
GirlWithWords SILVER, Mc Donald, Tennessee
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

And, suddenly, the world doesn't matter any more. Swept into the air by the sound of a thousand golden trumpets' melodic voices, the Earth and everything I once knew, ceases to exist. Higher I am swept by the swell of trumpets, now joined by the rest of the brass.
I peek down from my perch to whence cam I, to find there's nothing there and the idea of "home" is erased from my mind. Still evermore I am raised, the chorus joined by more instruments still. Now I look at my hand and see a strange and wonderful invention. I move the fingers slowly, so sure that, Whatever "I" am, must be a miracle.
Intake of breath marks the decrescendo of the band.
My lungs fill with life.
Still in awe of the creature of myself, my mind drifts to the Inventor. The world and its ideas having been removed from my Heart, I begin feeling something moving me, in every breathe, thought, action or leap of the Heart. Every thud of the Heart echoes the name of the Unknown One, whoever they may be. Something so magnificent and extraordinary that it completely overpowers human comprehension. This something, this elusive something that seems just out of reach--out of grasp--is what every Earthly being searches for, I thought. After Death, who knows, perhaps we'll find that lost something inside us.
I descend from the clouds now, the Orchestra beginning its final triumphant flourish. As I approach the land that is slowly, what seems to be, reforming before my very eyes. I could see the chain of everything, how absolutely everything in nature and man overlaps in the world. This, too. along with the Miracle of a single hand, led my mind to reel fantastically. Only Something so completely Good and Wise could create. Maybe Goodness itself took shape and formed teh world. As my feet hear the ground and the orchestra's Last notes resounded tremulously in my entire body, I realise that I myself am an instrument, beautiful by itself, but when paired with a flute or horn or the rest of the orchestra, I could be a part of something that leaves the listener quaking. I touch down but do not have the strength to Stand. I double over and weep, kissing the Good Earth and admiring the beauty of it all.
From then on, I knew that I was not in the world, I was of the Earth.

The author's comments:
I'm not a spiritual person, but I do believe in some Higher Being that should do just that, move me in every way possible, and faith in humanity to create something lovely.

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