Flag | Teen Ink

Flag

December 28, 2008
By Anonymous

I sit and watch as the waves of red and white crash against the hard shore of the great blue island. The bright white stars dance and frolic along the shore, taunting, teasting and tempting the waves to try and catch them. I am filled with awe as the wind begins to whip about, biting at the stars and the island and the sea. The waves simply roll and sway, ignoring the wind's attack. The stars continue to dance about, carelessly mocking the violent force of nature. The wind begins to fill with rage and fury, blowing harder and faster and harder and faster, but the red and white swirling waves retain their smooth demeanor.

I am stunned by the awesome sights before me:the wind begins to roar and howl as its fury peaks. The stars panic, their gleeful and jubilant antics are forgotten as they are nearly swallowed up by their fear. Yet, the swirling waves of crimson red and purest white remain unfazed by the wind. The long fluid motions of the waves are gentle and soothing, powerful and reassuring. The stars begin to calm as well, settling back to twinkle and cheerfully dance about on the shore again. The wind is resigned. Admitting defeat in its vain attempt to control that which is so far beyond its own grasp. The ocean, never always and yet never really changing begins to lap gently at the big sapphire island's heels.

A loud crack of electricity rips me from this vision of beauty and throws me back into a world of 'structure', 'order', and 'monotiny'. The deep voice that follows rumbles like rolling thunder. The voice commands, and we obey, moving as one. We all turn away from the flag that represents our physical freedom, and turn to face the flag of our spiritual freedom.

The pure white ocean dazzled me as it gently hugged the shore of the sturdy sapphire island. The ocean rocked gently back and forth, its surface remaining smooth. The island stayed much the same, smooth and gentle to the eye, save for a single object. Out of the center of the island, a blood red cross stood proud and unmoving, completely unfazed by the wind as it became riled once more.



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