🔵 By Matthew Boivin. Photo by lauragrafie.
I sit on a grassy knoll.
Blue sky looms overhead. Reach out, touch it.
Falling. Falling.
I’m not falling, I’m flying.
Below is he world, above is a new frontier.
Billowing clouds materialize before me.
I dive into the cloud bank.
Cool mist surrounds my soul.
The other side is near, the outside
world is on that same side.
I stay in the cloud bank.
Circling, circling.
The mist rises, thickens.
My flight is hindered. I stop, frozen in air.
My soul rains down on the outside world.
Frustration, fear and loneliness are no longer
mine. I am a raindrop, free falling.
The ground rushes up to meet me.
I hit with a force that separates my molecules.
I seep into the ground.
My soul forms a flower – an ugly plant with thorns
and balls that bore into the flesh of animals,
carrying my seed to their death.
A new plant grows from the dead skin – an ugly
plant with thorns and balls that bore into the
flesh of animals.
The flower blooms – a beautifully
colored bud shaped like a heart.
It begins to open, breaking the heart and revealing
a blood-red center surrounding a single tear
worth more than any diamond ever mined.
Such beauty from such a drab, vile flower.