A dreamy scene twinkling lightly; a swirl of colors. An airy and fleeting place. Gentle green, sparkling purple. Streaks of white and crimson. Now a touch of reality’s solemnity, drawing shapes from softness, rules from chaos, evanescence from an eternal blur. Concrete for a moment, and another. Lingering, perhaps too long. Moving towards resolution, yet not in resolution. Caressing the tangible one last time, almost in farewell. Finally, excitedly, a conclusion. But, it is only the beginning. A canvas of pure white. A message of gray and slashes of sharp inky darkness. The prologue is over, the action begins. An orchestra of color and nature. Billowing hills and sword-like grass take shape. A wilderness of unbridled magnificence. Hints of unexpected detail backdrop a whirlwind of clarity and focus. The symphony seemingly tires, unraveling to minimalistic undertones. Darkness crackles. But a melody continues, unfazed. Layers of grandiosity intensify, then die away to peace. Quiet. Then, a stroke of blue, the lightest blue you could imagine. Repeating, shifting slowly. Growing ever darker. A change impends. The old is gone, new colors take its place. Unexpected chromaticisms. Hisses and snarls. Flowers. An odd contrast, but is it really? Hisses turn to whispers, snarls to rustles of nature. Flowers to shadows, shadows of gloom and fangs. The view shifts. Zooming out, a complete view of the dream. Is it a dream? Who knows? Floating ivory shadows over an expanse of green. Dark and light. Cold and hot. Sorrow and joy. All converges in a final goodbye. All fades. All dies. All resolves to green. That wonderful, beautiful green to which nothing can compare. The color of peace and luck. Of immaturity, immortality. Of nature. Naught is left but meadows like no other. Stunning, even celestial. The Elysian Fields.
Rainy Whispers 