I saw a turtle with its shell against the sun—soaking in the pleasantries that drifted along the mellow winds. The turtle's little head was held high, eyes closed—not in smugness—but in full contentment. I wished to be that unbothered as I walked by hastily, even though I had no destination impatient for my arrival. The turtle on the rock by the rippling water gave me hope, something to look forward to—that I too could be that content if I allowed myself to be, with my head held high, and no worries to speak of. So I continued my walk at a slower pace and the turtle continued to sunbathe in bliss.
About the Creator
Andi Leigh
Poet • Novelist • Short Story Writer • Photographer • Cartoonist
Hello! I'm Andi. I enjoy writing poetry, horror stories, and general fiction.
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Wild Waves of Gold
Trembling wheat in the sun-baked winds look like wild waves of gold, skillfully swaying in the glittering day—the fields are an endless and open invitation that calls the free wanderers, the dreamers, and anyone needing a change of pace into its splendor, into its sense of comfortability, into a world separate from the concrete and gray—we may tremble with it—with the wheat spun from the blazing sun, with the carefree visions that may be out of reach for many, including ourselves. The rat race dies here and the unwavering winds bury it in soil while we dance as free as the wheat does.
By Andi Leigh22 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Ah, I envy the turtle. Lovely writing.