Creative Writing (61)
My phone is eerily silent, after so much noise…the other night.
You seem to have forgotten my name…things seemed changed, far from the same
You have nothing to tell me, nothing at all left to say
Beyond the Rocky Mountains and over the green hills, below the deep sea and greater than the blue sky, there was a land, so far away that no one, not a single soul knew about it. It was called The Waterfall Kingdom. There, rays of water streamed and sled on the walls of the towns and the beam of the sun shined through the waterfalls often creating a rainbow.
Growing up I always had a helping hand, my corner was always filled with loving family and friends willing to stop what they were doing, for me. Willing to go the extra mile, but as my “age mileage” increased, it’s only logical that those helping hands decrease.
A “seed” is different from none. It’s similar to all of its type––something so small and visually meaningless with the potential to bring true beauty to a physical existence. When looking at a “seed,” I begin to wonder...How? How can something so simple grow to be this metaphoric example of life and beauty?