The Dream by Lyra Corvo
She cleared her mind of all but that longing, that deep need of her beautiful hidden world she shared with none. As she walked out into the water, her bare feet sinking comfortably into the soft silt of the bottom, she could think of nothing else. Lazy dragonflies welcomed her as she waded deeper, then finally dove beneath the still surface.
The water was muddy green-brown with spears of light giving her glimpses of turtles and tadpoles before her eyes adjusted to the filtered glow. Effortlessly, she glided far below the murky surface through a wonderland of tangled mangrove roots. Reaching out to touch their algae slick surface, she marveled at the beauty of it all. Everything was connected and she was a part of it.
Forests of gently waving lily pads dance far above her, and the wind whispering through the swamp grass knew her true name. Home. She was home. Here in the murky depths, looking up at the pale checkered belly of an alligator, she found solace. Quick as an eel, she wove in and out of massive root systems, and all the awkwardness of society melted away.
Poem of Wind by Artair
Mischievous child of earth and fire
constantly fleeing from the freeze
stirring dust and agitating trees
throwing around water causing ire
fueling storms that soak and mire
adding more energy with every breeze
you whip up frenzy and cause unease
constantly moving with unknown desire
though your energy cannot be restrained
you bring about much needed change
spreading words and warning longer
with whispers and scents of life contained
you carry seeds to places strange
because of you the world is stronger
Bend to blighted seas, and quaking earth
As wind shakes the thrones of civilization.
Joined with flame, consuming humanity’s excess tinder,
She rises with a vengeance from the depths of the primordial imagination.
Indifferent to their suffering, she lashes out again and again;
Howling into the haunted caverns of time and memory.
Fleas quake beneath her paw, their pleas for mercy
Lost on ears deafened by murderous thunder.
She has not been conquered, for her spirit still defies
What hand she has been dealt.
Kicked and beaten, locked in the death throes of a painful conflict
Up she rises, this glorious phoenix who stands in the shadow of the sun;
Her emerald eyes reflecting the multifaceted landscape of light and dark.
When she speaks, her song is a sword of lightning in a cloudless sky,
And her luminous tears birth a celestial river of rainbow stars.
Deep within her untamed soul, the forests still stand tall
And the Pine trees crane their necks so that the earth can kiss the heavens.