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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

(138)

I see myself
In a meadow far away
On the foot of a green hill somewhere,
Lying in the shadow of a tree
That reminds me of my grandfather and his plump belly.
The breeze was gentle, blowing in polite gusts,
Singing a perfumed duet
With the sparkling stream that brought water pure and sweet.

I had a half-eaten apple in my hand and a smile on my mind
And i was staring contently into the vastness of the blue sky
When an eagle glided absentmindedly into view
And swirled to the peak of a massive body of dense white clouds.

My heart leapt
And my mind rushed
As I saw the bird tugging itself to greater height,
I threw away the apple and ran
First downhill and then up again,
Arms outstretched.

The breeze picked up too and became gushing wind,
The stream sang out louder as it saw me grow wings 
And fly past the tree and over the hill.

The blue sky pulled me up and the clouds clapped,
The eagle rushed towards me with fierce speed
And I towards it.

We spiraled upwards as a pair of free birds,
Fast, light and unbound,
Until we became one
In soul and unabashed glory
And flew and flew and flew
Till there was no more sky,
No more earth
No more me,
Just a vision from a dream,
A vivid memory
Of what is to be.

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