*The dream*

A dense forest in dark is graciously lit by a full moon. At this hour of black all seems to be at rest, the birds, the animals, all those wild and tender, their breaths could be heard and their waking is just a small scream away. Somewhere the waters carefully gush ahead.

Amidst the woods, besides the bamboos breathe a gleaming pond bearing the full moon. The moon lustrously floats on her. An old tree wrapped with thick veins of lush green and wild flowers stands slanting witnessing the same old play of ages. At the edge of a lean branch hung to a thinnest strand of brown, lonely stands a fruit mellowed in pink, soaked in yellow and full of ripe. With strokes of moon on a face of shy, she looks down pondering her fall.

Suddenly eyes open for a black bird in the woods far away, to a rapid stroke of thought the bird unseen before shrugs her wings, lifts her neck and leaps ahead for the fly, swinging and swinging towards the call.

The fruit is ready. The pond is ready. The bird is coming.

The arriving waves of the wings could be heard. The old leaves quiver and waters gather ripples as the black bird without a glimmer of her eyes slips down to that lean branch. The fruit at the rim of the strand stays unmoved. Down and down and down the bird comes to her sit. At the moment of sitting but before the sit- the fruit falls!, leaving that old strand of brown the fruit begins her fall, tick to tick she falls unto her fall. She skids through the leaves, kisses the flowers and thrashes on to the awaiting rock splashing her yellow of joy and with that she bounces and plunges in to serene waters. Down she goes… in to the chasm… down she goes… annihilated in the abyss!

Eyes opened. I woke up.

{inspired from an anecdote}