The world was (still) beautiful

Once, I was a child out west, with no notion of yesterday or tomorrow, I lived the same today a thousand times.

I rose with the sun, the morning dew of a night prior would shine ever clearly, as calves born the winter before grazed over yonder. The world was evergreen, everyellow, everwhite; the cycle of seasons neverending.

The harmonious songs of birds filled my ears as I approached the river bank

The beautiful brown hair of a girl caught my eyes as I filled a water tank.

“Hello” I told her, just like yesterday, we spoke. Just like then, sparks flew in my heart.

“My heart sparks for you” I wished to tell her, but couldn’t.

Just like yesterday, I promised to tell her the morning after.

Making my way back home, I’d attempt to calm my beating chest with jest, making senseless jokes as I disturbed hornet nests in great grand heists of wax and honey.

The guards cared not for my presence, yet could never hope to catch me. For I was the fastest in all the lands upon this earth and beyond.

Had poor swift Achilles shown his presence, even he would’ve been left behind, choking in the cloud of dust set asunder by my agile feet.

Yet none could escape the great warden of the house. Sister pulled on my ears for being late, yet in her auburn eyes I could always see the twinkle of amusement and the light of happiness.

As the sun hangs at its peak, I’d wander the forest in search of prey. The smell of berries and oak dominate, the rush of the river no longer heard beyond the wooded hills. The oak would eventually wane into birch, a border between elder lords who have struggled against one another for a millenia.

The prey I hunt among these wooded lands are creatures of ferocious brutality, for none could tame their savage souls, yet I the challenge met. In the forest lake, they float, their white feathers gleaming in the sun like a hundred spears, their beaks turned red from the thousands who have fallen to their wicked teeth.

I set out everyday with the goal of taming this accursed creature called geese, but the immortal human will stand no chance against these beasts. Even after years, I never once succeeded.

When evening comes, I’d ride out to the great steppes to retrieve great herds of sheep and cattle. An endless sea of green and blue greeted me. The grassy plains seem to stretch out to infinity, and the distant mountains disproving such notions hold an otherworldly blue hue, making it all the more magical.

Dreams of a greater world beyond this cradle are further stoked by starlight, shining the heavens, promising a million worlds beyond the one I live in. Forever out of reach, forever fantastical. The world was beautiful

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It felt strange to be out west once more. Haunted by yesterday with no surety of tomorrow, I clung to the only today I had.

I rose with the sun for the first time in a long time. The morning dew of the night prior shined ever clearly, as calves born a winter before grazed over yonder.

The harmonious songs of birds filled my ears as I approached the river bank

The beautiful brown hair of a girl caught my eyes as I filled a water tank.

My heart stopped for a moment, the familiar shade creating sparks in my heart from an age long ago. But nay, it wasn’t her. Slightly lighter, slightly shorter. The eyes of the owner blue rather than black.

Being back out west must’ve made me senile, that was a young love from ages past that never found its words.

Making my way back home, I saw that the hornet nests were still there. Grand heists of wax and honey was possible for me no longer, with my shriveled leg and a weathered peg. My swift feet long lost to a bullet in a foreign land.

I arrived at an empty home, my loving sister had long passed. Yet as I saw the same clock, stuck pointing at the moment that I’d arrive late, I could almost feel a pull on my ears, even if I could remember her chiding voice no longer.

As the sun hangs at its peak, I wander the forest in search of old memories. The smell of berries and oak dominate, the rush of the river no longer heard beyond the wooded hills. The oak eventually waned into birch, a border between elder lords who have struggled against one another for a millenia, barely changed even after all these years, theirs is a battle fought long before and long past a human life.

The pond of goose could still be seen, their wicked features ever present.

I rode out to the great steppes. An endless sea of green and blue greeted me. The grassy plains seem to stretch out to infinity, and the distant mountains disproving such notions hold an otherworldly blue hue, making it all the more magical.

Starlight, shining the heavens, still promises a million worlds beyond the vast one I’ve seen. Still out of reach, still fantastical.

I stared down at my old fingers, wrinkled by the passage of time. Even as I have lost my youthful innocence, the world cares not for my woes. I was irrelevant to the grandeur of nature. The world was evergreen, everyellow, everwhite; the cycle of seasons neverending.

The world was still beautiful.