Just a simple dabble from something I engaged in
….Around you in nothing but open grass. Sharp blades of green ebb into a ring of trees. A circle that surrounds you and obstructs your view into the empty darkness between them. Like towers, they stretch well into the sky and draw you to stay put. It is not an order, but rather a request. A surely known thing between you and the forest. Even if you can not understand how to come here, even if the ring of grass shifts in another direction. You know that you must stay. Sitting there in the ring of grass and
picking at the blades. Existing in only that state where all else is silent. Nothing but you, the grass, and the small flowers that peek above. White daisies that sway against the wind and bluebells that weep towards the ground. You stay and watch as the petals slowly wilt. Sagging towards the earth in a plea to be claimed. You watch as the grass begins to wilt and dry. From green to yellow to brown. Draining and decomposing before your eyes. You listen as the silence persists and cry to the trees above that simply watch. You feel as if the request becomes a demand. Sense as the world screams for you to leave and yet you can only sit. Only stay and bare witness as the things around you wilt and wither away. Teeter and grant yourself penance for surviving. Bare witness as you yourself stay the same. Forever stuck in that ring while the world and your joys wilt like the daisies. Gradually and beyond help…..