Characteristics
Can one describe a person’s soul?
How does one capture the essence of humanity?
Are we bound to a few small words?
Rarely are things simple
And words can capture many things
Can they describe a soul?
To sum up a person one can list
Every characteristic that comes to mind
Resticting them to small descriptors
Insisting those small descriptions are their being
Still how does one describe a soul?
To limit one’s perception to common traits
Is not a wise course of action
Characteristics can say a lot about perception
Souls themselves are beyond language
Wishes (Children’s story)
In a small cabin in a small forest lived a little girl named Julia. Julia had many sisters, each one more beautiful and arrogant as the last. Though each sister worked, Julia always seemed to work the hardest. Her job was to herd the sheep. The sisters however all had but the same wish. They all wanted to leave the small cabin behind.
Several wanted to become aristocrats so that they could wear the fanciest of dresses. Some wished to become entertainers of the court so that they could dance and sing all day. A few wanted to explore the world, seeing sites they had never even heard of.
8. But Julia wanted to become a writer. Her dream was to live all by herself in a nice little house filled with books she could read. She hoped a few would be one’s she wrote.
One night as Julia read she heard a sharp cry. Worrying it was one of the sheep Julia called her sisters for help. A few came out and together they went to investigate the noise. To their relief, the sheep were safe but the crying was still heard.
“Whoever is making that sound they seem to be in pain.” Said the eldest.
“We should help.” Said another.
“It is the right thing to do.” The last one agreed. But Julia was much more cautious.
“Do you not see it could be a trap!” Julia exclaimed. “It is dangerous to go out in the middle of the night!” But her sisters would not listen and they followed the noise. Julia stayed with the sheep.
It was hours until they returned and they were not alone. A stranger in a long dress with long hair walked amongst them.
“Who are you?” Julia asked in a commanding voice. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same.” Said the stranger. Her voice was but a whisper as if the very words would break the girl. Julia put her hands on her hips.
“She was lost.” The eldest sister explained, obviously annoyed with Julia.
“Be polite.” Said another.
“Help us lead her inside.” The last one commanded. Julia was not happy but helped anyway.
The stranger entered the cabin and instantly she changed. Wings fluttered out of her back and she began to glow. Julia stared at the stranger in shock.
“Bring your sisters to me.” The stranger said in her soft voice. Julia could sense something dangerous in her tone. But she was too entranced by the change to say anything. She barely noticed that her sisters left.
“You are quite a curiosity.” Said the stranger. “To ignore a cry for help is cruel.”
“To cry for help when it is not needed is not exactly a good thing to do either.” Julia replied.
“Fair enough. But which one of us is crueler?” One by one the sisters came in and soon the room was crowded. “Oh my, what a big family!” The stranger laughed. “I heard your many wishes and have come to grant them.” Excitement and joy sprung onto the faces of many.
“Any wish?” The eldest asked, her voice so full of hope.
“Of course, my dear! But only one per person mind you.” Julia looked to her books, her one true desire buzzing in the back of her mind. The girls began to all talk at once, frantic to have their dreams come true. The stranger laughed a small laugh. “One at a time! One at a time!” She exclaimed in a joyous voice. “I will send each of you off to wherever you wish to be.
"I wish to be an aristocrat living in a castle!” Many of the girls said.
“I wish to be an entertainer for the fanciest of courts!” Some of the sisters pleaded.
“I wish to see the entire world!” A few of the girls replied. Each one was sent off to fulfill their dreams. Soon it was simply Julia and the stranger.
“What is your wish?” The stranger asked, her voice as sweet as candy. Julia stared at the stranger, pondering how to properly word her request.
“I wish that you never granted any of my sisters’ wishes.” Julia said in a sing song voice. The stranger was quiet for a moment. Anger bubbled out of her and Julia could feel the heat of her rage.
“How dare you?” Screamed the stranger, spit flying from her lips.
“You said any wish. That is mine. Now grant it you fool.” Julia demanded. Screaming with hatred burst into flame.When the fire died out, leaving nothing but ash behind, her sisters returned one by one. Many cried in relief. Some collapsed from exhaustion. A few told Julia of the horrible trick the stranger had pulled.
“I was almost married an awful man! No dress in the world is worth that” Said the eldest.
“I was the court’s fool! It was not fun at all!” Said another.
“I have no idea where I was. Only that it was dark and terrifying.” The last one said. Julia was simply happy that they were home. She knew she would fulfill her wish someday, even if she had to do it all by herself.
The Tiny Lipoof
In the big wide world, there are many a place untouched by human hands.
One such place was a beautiful forest there was an old stump.
There in that old stump lived the Lipoof.
The Lipoof has curved ears and curled shoes. They wear a floppy hat on their head.
The Lipoof has a great big smile for a creature so small.
But the Lipoof did not smile very often because they felt alone.
The Lipoof was and is and always will be the only Lipoof in the entire world.
One day they had enough! They wanted to see the world.
So the Lipoof walked away from that old stump and started the journey of a life time.
The Lipoof walked in fields of mushrooms. The mushrooms were many a different color and size.
The journey was prettiest at night. Some of the mushrooms would glow.
Soon the world was nothing but flowers as far as the eye could see. They smelled very nice.
But the walking was very tiring and the Lipoof’s journey was becoming very long.
The Lipoof thought of turning back, going back to that old stump for the rest of their days.
“No!” Said the Lipoof, “I may be small but I will see the world.”
So, the Lipoof walked. And as they walked, though they were tired, they grew strong.
The Lipoof would climb up and down hills much too big for them.
The Lipoof would sail over ponds on leaves.
And every night the Lipoof would sleep under the stars.
One day on the Lipoof’s journey they heard a small cry. Concerned they followed the sound to a tall tree.
In the tree was a small creature crying on a branch. The creature had a fuzzy ears and fuzzy feet.
“Are you alright?” asked the Lipoof. The creature continued to cry.
The Lipoof worried for the creature searched a way to reach them. They found some long vines to climb.
The Lipoof used all their might to climb, climb, climb.
When the Lipoof reached the creature, they were much too tired to speak. The creature’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“Oh dear!” Said the creature. “Are you alright?” The Lipoof nodded.
“I came to help!” Said the Lipoof once they caught their breath. “What’s your name?”
“I am the Plomoon.”
“I am the Lipoof. Why are you crying?”
“I am all alone. I am the only Plomoon left in this world.” The Plomoon began to cry again. “I’m sorry. I’m a cry baby.”
“It’s okay to cry when you’re sad.” Said the Lipoof. “Would you like to hear a song?” The Plomoon nodded.
The Lipoof took their fiddle and played a lovely tune. They played music until the sun began to set.
“I feel a little better.” Said the Plomoon. “Thank you for sitting with me.”
“You’re welcome.” The Lipoof said with a great big smile.
“We should climb down.”
“Okay, but be careful.” When they reached the ground the Plomoon gave the Lipoof a hug.
“Thank you again!” The Plomoon said. The Lipoof waved to the Plomoon as they went home.
It was not the last time they saw the Plomoon. On the Lipoof’s adventure, when They was longing for a home, he found an old stump.
Next to the stump was a tiny house. And there in the tiny house lived the Plomoon.
That was when the Lipoof knew they found a home and they would no longer be all alone.
Family Ties
Three brothers stood two so true
The one to the left nothing but lies
A sweet mask that charms all but whom he despises
Family means nothing
Now he is gone
Two brothers stand one so true
The one on the right losing his mind
Reality is slipping just like his presence
Family means nothing
Now he is gone
One brother stands oh so true
When will family mean nothing to you
Twisted Trees
I should have stayed at the tavern. Sure, it was a rickety dump with stale ale and even staler conversation, but it was relatively safe from the elements. This will be a life experience I told myself. Walking in a wintry landscape covered in fresh fallen snow, what else could be better inspiration. Inspiration my freezing ass.
The gentleness that were snowflakes falling from above drifted away, leaving hail that pelted my foolish self with bruising force. I was but a mile from the next village, but with darkness rapidly swallowing the landscape before me and no end of hail in sight, I aimed to take cover anywhere. Tall trees, surely as old as time, stretched upwards and were I not afraid of my face being beaten to a pulp by the sky, I would have marveled at their beauty. I took comfort in their relative safety instead, close to the nearest trunk. I nearly crushed my lute in my eagerness; and hearing the slight scrape of wood on wood made me jump, stumbling back into the road ever so slightly. Upon inspection though my precious darling was unharmed, though a bit sappy. Sighing, I retreated into the cover of the forest once more, though not against the sap covered tree. It was fortunate it was lute rather than my hair. Sappy hair is a pain to deal with.
While I wiped down my lute with a handkerchief, swearing at my rashness, I heard a faint whisper. I paused, listened for the sound, but all that came was the sound of hail beating upon the dirt road and the whistle of wind. I looked behind me for good measure, searching for the source of the sound. I assumed it was imagination gone wild once more, perhaps a whispering lyric of a piece, old or new, but never the less I scoured the tree line behind me.
The only point of true note was a single tree amongst the mix, much smaller than the rest and had the slightest touch of grey in it’s trunk. Needles covered the forest floor at its roots and it struck me as tragic. I have never been moved by the sight of a tree, but tears welled in my eyes regardless. Approaching it I slung my lute over my back and stepped round the needles carefully. And behind that tree was another one, slightly shorter, a bit greyer, and a tad thinner. Looking on there was another tree, again smaller, than another and another in a perfectly straight line. Were I not so moved, were tears not flowing freely, I would have ignored such a sight as a strange curiosity. But there I was, crying like a newborn and underneath it all, the urge to follow the sorrow overwhelmed me.
My steps were cautious and as I passed tree after tree, I felt as if something was pulling me further in. I don’t know how long I walked, nor how far truly, but the line never faltered. I barely noticed the snow, light flakes that had escaped the tree tops. The snow became heavier as the grey trees became shorter and shorter.
It ended with a single tree unlike the others. It was a twisted thing, only but waist high. It was gnarled and dark, oozing some unpleasant sap that spotted the snow at its roots. I vomited on the thing, suddenly and much to my shock. After a good amount of retching I stumbled away, turned myself away from the sight. The snow was coming quicker now and I turned my face to the sky, let the falling flakes leave burning kisses on my skin. My breathing slowed and I gathered the courage to face the tree again.
It was still covered in heated vomit, snow melting as it landed on the mess. I turned my sight to where I had come from, started towards that direction when I heard the whisper again. It was clear but the words were unknown to me.
Turning I spotted two trees in the distance, each a striking red against the snowy landscape. They twisted together into a sort of archway and the whisper grew louder the longer I stared.
“That wasn’t there before.” The words came slowly off my tongue, each word but a step closer to the arching trees. “What are you?” I asked them. Their reply was a rustle of leaves. The closer I approached the stronger the feeling of my heart’s strings being pulled. As I drew closer I found the trees to not be naturally red, but merely painted. “Carmine you fool of course they were painted.” Stepping under the archway a sudden pang hit my heart, and I gripped my shirt in an effort to soothe the burst of agony. It was as if a man had plunged his fist deep within my chest and squeezed my oh so precious heart.
And like a flash it was gone. I tried to turn back, truly I did, but the revolting sight of the twisted branches of the vomit covered tree waiting for me discouraged any retreat. So, I pressed forward.
“And why not?” I asked myself aloud, trouncing through the snow. No one answered, not even the whisper that had drawn me to this place. It was a long quiet walk, the only sound breaking the eerie serenity being the heavy steps I took in the ever-growing layer of snow.
Feet deep was no problem.
Knee deep caused concern.
Waist deep and by the gods was I terrified.
The further I went the worst my situation got, and it dawned on me that I may die here alone in the snow, forgotten. Worse than that, all this snow might damage my lute, warp the wood into a foul sounding beast. The horror.
I stood there panting, listening to my heartbeat, pounding in my chest. Was it my imagination that it was thumping slower? I wanted to rest, needed to rest. Just lay my head down in the snow, let its cold embrace cover me like a blanket. Then there was a voice. No longer a whisper but a proper voice, though the words still sounded foreign to me. It was screaming and covering my ears did nothing to block out the sound.
“I am going mad!” I shouted back, and, as if the voice cared, it quieted. “A little longer.” I whispered to myself. I trudged on, body crying out to rest. But each step a little voice reminded me that it was only a little longer. A little longer to what I did not know but it was a comfort.
I had not noticed the dimming of the sky but I’d be damned if I didn’t notice the plunging darkness swallowing me and the forest into the pitch-black void of a moonless night. Not even a star twinkled in the distant sky. Perhaps I was not even looking up. Perhaps I was drowning in a sea of snow, only treading close to the surface. My face burned from the cold. I swam on so to speak, though hope was but as dim as a dying ember. But it’s existence is what is important.
One more step. One more step. Just one more. I would have voiced this mantra had my teeth not been chattering like the drumming fingers of an impatient man. Gods why did I stray from the road? How did the saying go? Oh, woe is he who takes the path less traveled by? Damn right.
As I was wading through the snow, chest deep now, my fingers brushed against something. I paused, and reached out with the other hand. My fingers barely touched the item but it was there. I stepped closer, rested my palm against it. A tree. I tried to walk around it but the roots had been quite high it seems and my foot snagged. I fell face first into the dirt. Body aching, I jiggled my foot free from the root and crawled further from the tree, resting in the dirt. Dirt. I was in dirt. Not snow, not ice, not tree sap. Dirt. I nearly kissed it. I laughed instead, a short and labored wheeze. I stood, legs feeling strange without the resistance against each step and looked around. The world was still a pitch-black void. But there was no snow, for the time being anyway. If I were in a clearer state of mind I would have asked myself why there was no snow. But logic does not mix with panic, for the thought of death struck me again. I was weak, I could feel it to my core. I was going to die.
I slapped myself. Snap out of it man I would have shouted. You will survive your stupidity! That is quite harsh I would reprimand. Not nice at all I would agree. These thoughts swirled in the back of my mind, a dialogue to fill the silence of the void. I wandered now, tried my best not to trip over my own feet, called for help once or twice only to find it to be a soft wheeze.
And like a miracle there was light. A flicker of flame turning around an invisible corner. It jumped at the sight of me but I smiled tenderly to it.
“Help.” I managed, before collapsing. I was on top of grass now. I turned my head ever so slightly, smelled the scent of fresh grass and looked to find a beauty radiating in heavenly flame. For surely, I had died to see such a creature. An angel I’m sure, bringing me a message. Though there was no smile on those tender lips. They parted.
“Baka.” The word rang in my ears as the creature called out in a tongue I did not know. Words similar to the whisper sprang from the angel’s lips. I could not think more of it for the darkness had swallowed me.