A Falling Star...

A falling star ... I see you.

And I see you too.

You twirl yourself around in circles. Spraying misty colors… diluting every inch of the canvas painted moments earlier. You walk through the haze, confident in your steps, head held high, sharp eyes with clarity in thought and vision. But, a halo of colors and a comet of bright lights blind your eyes for just a moment. It was a sudden thunderclap of a memory drenched in the rain. And there she was—the scared little girl who looked around feverishly with her big brown eyes, darting here and there for assurance and love. She had trembling lips and quivering brow.

Snap. Gone is the true child. And I see you again—determined and strong. No twinge of guilt… no second thoughts… chains of control around a pure heart. There was no trespassing of thoughts over forbidden grounds. It was a trail of smoke… a whiff of an intimate scent.

But a gaze from nowhere trails up your arms. The girl turns, peeks through the mist. Smiles. Waves. Blushes and disappears.

Enough.

You turn around looking at the shadows, deciphering the silhouette, recognizing the soft glow hidden by the ashes left yet you refuse to acknowledge.

Frozen in time, the girl runs through the floating colors, brushing aside butterflies, she picks two bluebells and sits next to me. You watch in amazement as you see a boy, whom you once knew as you know yourself, place a flower in the tucked-in curls of a girl, whom you once knew as you knew him. Digging nails in soft palms, a clenching of the fist, a tightening of the rope around the heart, a bite of the lip, you reel in the anchor. But you turn away and walk.

The girl looks towards the receding figure. She looks again at the boy she met after many lonely years. The mist, the colors, the lights beckon her to come quick. After a peck on the cheek she runs towards herself and vanishes into dreamscapes. Freedom. Yet not free.

You feel the burden and look back for forgiveness. I nod and let you go. With a shake of the head, I sit down on the curb again. Waiting for the falling star to wish a glance again, I clasp the shrunk flower closely to my heart.


-omi