The Thunder Calls
For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.
I remember a day quite clearly in my mind, vivid as the fresh paint upon the page. My mother, rest well; picking a punet of the finest looking strawberries my eyes had beheld on one of the warmest sun kissed days of the year. My life then so free of thoughts but say the sights before me were the clearest of my days. I think of that day fondly and not all too selfishly, not for the warmth I felt upon my face, the sweet taste of the fruit upon my young lips so alive with feeling nor even the reassuring smile of my mothers face. I fear I long for those days for something much similar, a sense of thought so free of ..well.. Thought.
…. I’m sorry where was I?… I forget….
forget?… No.. choose not to remember? Is that it?…. I forget.
The colour came to me again last night, this time they filled me with dred and with wonderous glory. It has been so long since I saw it I can barely remember the shape but my dreams though assaulted by light and questions were clear in their purpose. I must find it.