Salinye Posted June 20, 2008 Report Share Posted June 20, 2008 (edited) **This quick free write stemmed from coming back to the board and reading things I have written in the past. Each one stirs strong memory and longing to write. Sort of like the raindrops I speak of. You know how free writes are. They just sort of come out. For good or bad. They are what they are. For me the tree represents The Pen, the woman my muse and the rain drops past writings that I've dropped in on and read for the first time in a long while.** My hand drags down the wet bark of a tree as I glance up into its majestic branches grateful for the few minutes that it was willing to bear my weight as I paused to breathe. Raindrops of remembrance and clarity dripped down from the branches running down my face like cold forgotten tears. What am I looking for again? Bringing my gaze back down I see a figure ahead shrouded in the mist created by the cold rain on the hot summer ground of what was. She seems to be beckoning me forward and despite my hesitation I cannot resist her allure. I never could… As I approach her I tilt my head to the side in wonderment and awe. You would think it would be her beauty and elegance that made my breath catch in my throat, but it was not. It was the fact that despite the downpour, she stood before me dry and untouched. My drenched and homely appearance was all the more noticeable in the shadow of her glory. Welcome flames ignite a numb recognition. Without spoken word, she wraps her arms around me and until that moment I didn’t know how much my soul longed for her, ached for her. Within me a hungry recognition stirred. I closed my eyes in anguish as I realized I was among the forgotten. As if reading my thoughts, she whispered to me. I have not forgotten you. You have forgotten me. I tried to draw her closer to me, but before I could even open my eyes she was no longer entwined within my arms. She ran playfully away from me a smile in her eyes, her lovely locks blowing in a warm breeze I could not feel. It was the moment I realized that she was not something I could keep. She would be something I would always have to pursue. At least I can feel the rain again. Edited June 22, 2008 by Salinye Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mira Posted June 21, 2008 Report Share Posted June 21, 2008 I have not forgotten you. You have forgotten me. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyvern Posted July 11, 2008 Report Share Posted July 11, 2008 I really like this freewrite, Salinye. :-) The metaphorical nature of it is cool, and the way that you represent the Pen in it is meaningful to me... there can never be enough pieces written in honor of this community. I have to say, your dry muse caught me a little off guard, mostly because I think in this metaphorical scenario my muse would probably look something like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, emerging all soaking wet and dribbling RP stories of the past. ;-D Somehow, the ending of your piece reminded me of a quote that goes "The moment you feel satisfied with your writing, you should cease being a writer," wish I could remember who said that. Anyway, I think chasing after your muse is only right. I mean, how else are you going to keep her in shape? :-) Cleverly written Salinye, I enjoyed reading this. :-) Thanks for sharing it, and my apologies for the rather belated response. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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