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Array
(
[sid] => 92687
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Silence
[time] => 2005-04-29 08:42:16
[hometext] => A paradise now lost to the ravages of time and the greed of humanity...
[bodytext] => The sunlight that passes through the dense canopy casts intricate patterns on the earth below. The light wind causes the slim trees to sway, and the shadows to flicker, dancing gracefully with the golden sunlight. With the cool breeze comes the scent of rain, chasing the stale summer heat far away from the grove. Upon the ground lay the ungathered leaves of years gone by, now brown and shriveled, brittle enough to crumple into dust at a touch. The sweet scent of new life wafts upward, perfuming the air. Overhead the intertwining branches form a lacy roof from which birds chorus. Chirps and tweets float down through the summer air as easily as leaves in the fall. Occasional patches of blue sky, or of lazy white clouds can be glimpsed through the holes in the leafy cover. They drift, letting the wind decide their course. Outside, the hustle bustle of the drab gray world rushes by unceasingly. Noisily people live their lives, chaotically stumbling, grasping for one thing after another to slow their descent, never stopping to consider why they fall. With minds as clouded as an overcast sky, living in a world dictated by so many contradictions, they walk on, from one day to the next. Inside the circle of green, there is only the slow and steady rhythm of the earth itself, breathing in…and out… and the unhurried patience of the trees. All around are the small skitterings of unknown lives continuing onwards. The harsh, demanding roar of the world is heard only as a series of whispers, dreamlike and surreal. The time that flashes so desperately by outside the grove has no meaning within. Only the changing of the seasons, and the repeating cycle of seedlings sprouting, growing, dying, and sprouting again give meaning to the years that slowly accumulate, like snow on an unshaken branch. Gradually, the two songs merge; the quick tempo of the outside’s whispers and the calm, unhurried sighs from within blend to form a new song. Silence. The shade of silence heard is that which can only be found in the deepest, most central regions of a living soul. The sunlight and shadows cast intricate designs upon the ground… and the silence reigns. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 30 [informant] => kyarn [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => PoemsonBeauty )
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