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Rated: E · Short Story · Environment · #1850402
One person's perspective of a perfect moment in time.
Birth brings about new life. This is not just true with procreation, but in every endeavor of creation. Beauty lives here. Not the beauty from manufactured ideas subliminally implanted. No, this is a true beauty; a pure beauty. It is through this beauty that all things, the living and created, reside in a harmonious blend teeming forth with life.

There once lived a girl, the goddess of the garden. She was the most beautiful muse creation could ever hope to muster. Her beauty knew no limits; a lovely creature inside and out. However, much like all other creatures of substance, she was conflicted. Her inspiration for other’s creation had started to wear her down a point past exhaustion. She was continually sought after for what she had inside that eventually, she was left empty inside.

Not knowing what else to do, she began to develop illustrious masks to wear. She could now hide behind these masks, to cover up the pain from all the onlookers who only meant to take more from her. As night would dawn itself, as the takers would disperse, she could remove her covering, but was still just as empty as before. This went on for what seemed like an eternity.

After some time, the charismatic gown which adorned her began to tatter and fray. It was still beautiful, but not like most would perceive beauty. It was a beautiful mess, full of experience and life. One morning, before the vultures could pluck her for more inspiration, she viewed herself in the pond. The mind behind the mask now completely done with what she had become, took the mask from her face. It revealed something she had not seen before.

This was now the first time she truly saw herself as she was. It was at this point she decided she would no longer hide behind the facade of happiness for others. As the creatures of habit came to take pieces of her away that day, they noticed a distinct difference. No longer was their muse smiling just to smile. This day she was saddened, but more lovely and glamorous than they had ever witnessed before. Ballads and sculptures had never sounded and looked this way and creation truly stood in wonderment of the goddess that day.

During this perfect day of embracing pain which now turned to hope; the hope that anything was possible. This orchestra of the senses blossomed forth and sang the most beautiful symphony that the true essence of humanity was here, in this moment. As light peered through the garden that day, the goddess felt a warmth she had not sensed in quite some time.

As the days went on, she still held a memory of the life she left behind. This memento documented the metamorphosis she had to undertake to be complete and whole again. Now, does she rarely hold this keepsake, but continually looks onwards to that warming embrace of every new day.
© Copyright 2012 Andrew_Chilton (litaddsup at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1850402-The-Goddess-of-the-Garden