Alone she sits near the silent brook, staring at the dancing ripples.
Unaware of her own thoughts, certainly.
Etched to the core of her imagination, there flickers the existence of a lost light.
She hears the plain mumbling of some hidden flute, ingrained in the fragments of melody.
Somewhere from behind the neighboring trees, sparrows whisper a sweet song to the unruffled air,
And the wrinkles begin to maneuver.
The sloshing of the trifling waves pricks her ears, pulsating with a low murmur in which mystery resides…
Still and speechless, she sits with patience.
Her eyes strive to read through this unknown language, in vain.
A fleet of random clouds clusters above her, where,
Among the patches of white dirt in the sombre blue sky, she loses her thoughts…
Light winds rush past her lone self
As she breathes in the fragrance of solitude, on the verge of insecurities.
BY: Solitary Star