In looking for pictures for a door, I came across something I had written, don’t know when, long enough ago that I had tucked it away in a book and only found it again last night when I pulled the book out to look up something. Obviously it was back when I had a printer. Since I need to retype it to get it on the PC.. I’m going to share it with you – as is- I will leave a link at the end of the post to Dan’s No facilities .. where you will find more doors … I had titled the page.. The Sun.
The Sun – written by me, sometime in the past,
The sun that had warmed and welcomed her earlier that day, was no longer friendly. She lay in quiet despair, feeling the unrelenting heat, burrow down deeper into her body. The ground under her was hard, unforgiving and uncaring that her body hurt. Where once she thought of the sun as a healing energy and one that gave life, she now thought only of how it was slowly killing her with its scorching blistering persistence on her now barely living shell.
The long slender arm that once gracefully waved to friends and showed her animation for life now lay limp and useless across her dry eyes. Her parched throat tried in vain to find one tiny drop of saliva anything to relieve the thirst that raged inside of her. She felt her soul evaporating drop by drop into the stillness around her. Nothing moved. The animals knew to conserve their energy. Not a sound could be heard… and she had no energy left to try to cry for help.
How long she lay in the semi state of consciousness, no one would ever know … all hope for rescue was gone, she simply let herself go.
It was in that moment, that she felt rather than saw a presence. She knew her eyes would not open, could not open, her strength was gone. Maybe the angels had come to take her away from this burning inferno. Maybe… she would once more feel the cool of a shaded nook, and feel the fresh green grass beneath her feet. If she were to die now… she would be rescued from this horrible state of passive death.
What was that … a sweet smell .. the air around her had changed… then yes… she felt a drop on her lips. A gentle rain, just enough to slowly wind its way down her throat and give a feeling of reprieve. She knew she could not move… so she lay and accepted the gift from the gods.. her body was bathed in healing rain, drop by drop she felt her skin greedily take it in.
Maybe she would see tomorrow… maybe there was hope… as her body drank this blessing from above, she felt the earth beneath her begin to take shape and mould to her now drenched body. Her arms that had been limp and useless now began to lift in prayer to the skies.
Her eyes opened to the world and she knew she could stand tall and be strong again. In letting go and accepting the moment of despair, she had welcomed the unknown, in doing so it became her friend… She was free to embrace the sun again… for each death is a new life. Always and forever.
I stepped through a door from the past, I don’t know why or what the reason was for my little ‘story” but it still resonates with me today.
Do everything willingly and joyfully. Your upbeat attitude will make things more cheerful and enjoyable.Perfect Liberty 2021.18
To join in the fun of seeing doors from all over the map, please visit Dan’s site, No Facilities https://nofacilities.com/2021/11/18/duluth-central-high/
Comments on: "found" (13)
At first I thought this was a woman, then I thought it was a wilted plant’s perspective… interesting to ponder!
beautiful comment… love it… waves goodnight…
The image of the cottage is wonderful, but I like your story even better. Thank you for sharing that with us.
Good morning Dan .. yvw, writing to a writer is the bane of our existence at times.. after all this time, you would think I would have learned to date or make notations on what I write.. but no… I am what I am…. smiles and sends happy wishes your way…
The story and the cottage is beautiful.
Good morning, thank you Teresa…. have a great week-end..
I thought Eliza’s comment was interesting and could be true. Something to ponder. The cottage reminds me of the works of Thomas Kinkade.
good Friday morning Janet… happy start to a wonderful week-end..
Thanks. Enjoy your weekend.
Nicely philosophical – Eliza has nailed the metaphor
hasn’t she! Good Morning Derrick, happy week-end to you across the pond, hope you are enjoying great weather..
Ahh, what a find! Glorious. You can do this more often. 🙂
thank you! if only…the creative mind sometimes has a will of its own =^_^= waves good morning across the miles…