A Sky That Was All Her Own

She ran out naked into the world, to taste the morning on her lips. It was a new day. It was a new world, out there waiting for her. She wanted to be there to meet it. She wanted to taste the morning. Take the day in her cupped palms and let it open and blossom into a flower of time.

She wanted the world, and she knew it waited for her and her alone. The day could not make sense without her there inside it, there to name the flowers and animals. There to give the birds permission to fly and the clouds to continue their magisterial progress across a sky that was all her own.

It was her world, and this was her day. She spun and danced across the dew-wet grass. Feeling the ice-cold wetness washing her bare feet clean of all they’d ever walked upon before this time. She ran down the meadow slope to the river and jumped in to wash all her past from her. She turned to see all those memories she needed to forget washed away by the ice-cold river. A river made from the snow on the high mountain that looked down on her world.

She turned first towards the mountain that looked over her world and held up her arms to praise it for its diligence and its security. Then she turned towards the sun and knelt down in the icy river to offer her thanks for the way it brought each morning to her and laid it out across her meadow as a gift to her alone.

Then she turned back towards her home, stepping lightly out of the river. She strolled back up the meadow, a smile on her morning-kissed lips. She was ready now for whatever this day would bring.

 

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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