PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Oscar Elizondo A01192543

The midnight aura and the scent of wet grass radiated from the ground and into my nose. The flames stood up to the sky. Flame, dear flame. It had been a long time since I felt the warmth of fire. I had been wandering through the woods and the chill of the air. How much I longed to feel my body, translucent now, by touching fire. On the other side of the plains the horses roared. They sped through the open field, themselves lit in blue fire and charged into me.

 Before, my mother had told me to avoid the horses, I thought this to be a myth. Ridiculous. Had I only listened. That afternoon, the one I wandered into the woods, I had not been aware that I was never to return. That day I ventured into the woods, even though my mother told me not to. “They are dangerous woods, never go there”. I died. I think. I am not so sure what happened but from this position, standing and looking down, I can see my own body lying on the ground. Or maybe, just maybe I am looking up to see a ghost version of myself from the sweet scented grass. At this time of the night (or morning), petrichor was the only time my fainted body and me could feel. I feel like I was part of the forest itself. Wet and still.

My journey through the woods was peculiar, for not only did I begin losing notion of time (it did not dawn), but my senses were starting to fade, I did not feel warmth, I could not feel the air and I could not hear or taste anything. It was completely still and nothing ever moved, not even the birds, some paralyzed in mid-flight, not even the leaves (I had realized it was not I who stopped feeling or hearing, but the forest did). Not even the moon seemed to move, after hours of walking down what appeared like a narrow path. Little streams and trickles stopped as well but they were not frozen. The only thing that illuminated the scene was the moonlight in which I bathed. I continued my journey through the woods for a few hours, waiting for the sun to rise, but to no avail.

 I continued walking and it seemed like I reached the end of the forest, and a large line (or wall) of trees stood in a straight line and then there were the plains and the beautiful fire that guided me. After the horse incident (the one where they trampled me) and of course nothing happened, I was a ghost, I think. I felt depressed, because I naturally didn’t feel anything and I felt like crying. But my quest had not ended yet and I needed to keep moving forward because I could bet my life I wasn’t dead. At least not yet because there was no way I could die because I walked into a forest my mom told me not to. And so I continued walking through the plains and midnight aura that led me to warmth. After a few hours I finally reached the flame and a spark popped. Then another. And another and before I knew it there were thousands of sparks, so many, in fact, that I was blinded and fell to the floor.

I woke to the morning mist of the woods, confused, I tried to pull myself up. I guess I just fell and hit head.