altera in vita

dirt. the dirt i woke up in had been laid there for me. i yawned and in return, the wind pat me on the back as a mother does for reassurance. i never knew that feeling before. i was asleep, but my soul had never felt more awake. dirt filled my palms and the world came alive. i didnt know if it was dusk or dawn, it was hard to make out the colors of the sky with all the nature blocking my view. bushy and opulent greenery surrounded the dead end path i lay. a stone wall, mossy, separates me from the opulence. my clothes are scarce, just a thin silk robe lazily draped over my laying body. barefoot, i let my body feel the soil underneath. it was more than just feeling, i felt as if the oxygen i didnt need anymore was exchanged for the earth beneath my feet. soft, cool like sand. but it doesnt make me feel dirty. the air is foggy and dense, but the wind makes it feel like a glass of water in the desert. perfect.

the matronly wind whispers in my ear once more, and i obey. i rise, and feel the oasis’s soul within mine. its a feeling of peace, something not felt where i came from. i cant help but feel as though i must touch everything i pass, as if each rock, twig, and grain of dirt is a lost loved one. my feet move without instruction, as they carry me down the path, unaware of where it leads because of the towering trees.

as the path reveals itself, my child-like eyes reveal their youth. i can now see i am on a mountain, high in the clouds among a range of its brothers and sisters. i am on the highest one. the sky, no longer confined to the monotonous blue, has instead broke up with the ocean and created its own color. first orange, like the tiger that has yet to learn how to bite. pink kisses the orange, and i know she chose it just for me. the part that reaches outer space instead turns into a lilac sky, knowing blue just wont do. the mountain’s height is accentuated by the occasional friendly touch of the clouds, coming and going as they please, hugging each peak on their own time. sunlight, the most delicate of rays, glisten the rock walls on either side, revealing hidden flowers intertwined with the fungus. but none of these things compare to what lies at the end of the path, a sight that made me catch my breath in a breathless world.

there stands the most eloquent and exquisite cherry blossom tree, wanting to be seen. the wind that had been my guide leaves my side, and breezes through the tree’s baby pink flowers, which are anything but delicate. the wind alerts it that im here. the trunk looks braided, twisting and contorting in the healthiest of ways, showing off that its not scared to be so close to the edge of the mountain. i know she wants me to come closer, and somehow my feet begin to move again.

where in another life i would be too worried to ruin its beauty, my hand envelopes its trunk without hesitation, but with the most gentle touch. my eyes close, and in a way i think the world around does too. the power of complete and utter tranquility fill my veins that used to once house blood. all signs of humanity have gone, and at last i am left with a feeling i have been searching for my whole life.

as we stand there on that cliff, i know our time is limited. hand in hand, we wait, letting the wind assure us, while we watch the sun perform.

altera in vita.