Close your eyes.
Make a wish.
And the fallen eyelash, uprooted by chance or fate, flew away silently into the vastness of invisibility.
Childhood is that period when you do not question possibilities.
You do not ask where it went. You do not look around to trace its trajectory prior to the last flight and descent.
And yet the precocious nature of inquisitiveness would initiate questions - dreamy, redundant, pointless, useless questions.
You paused to wonder is the broken eyelash a letter to the universe? Is the disintegrated fine sword - the constant companion of your emotional expressions in an existential battle which blinked as you agreed, fluttered as you expressed surprise and was drenched by your sorrow once upon a time - is it now a lone soldier in hope that you send out on a solitary battle into the overwhelming vacuum of nothingness? Or is it the last fragment of a broken wing, camouflaging its purposelessness under the promise of a dream?
You sigh. You gather yourself.
And you close your eyes.
To make a wish.
A penny. In a wishing well full of pennies.
ReplyDeleteOh yes! The splash and the ripples of reverberating dreams!
DeleteThe way you express, it makes me wait, and be thankful of every moment, live every moment. We have all become too busy in our lives that it costs so much to sit down and ponder upon what we have at present.
ReplyDeleteTrue that! We have complicated everything that was simply beautiful! Thank you for your comments :)
Delete*for
ReplyDeleteEven after the eyes are closed, it reverberates. How we long to chase the soundless movements of the tiniest part of our existence gradually receding into oblivion.
ReplyDeleteAnd so we do! There is not a part of our existence lost to oblivion...recognition is a different matter, dear reader!
DeleteThank you for the comment :)