A Simple Tale.

Dark haired and soft of eyes, dusty bloom on soft skin, the young girl is so still and quiet high up on the hilltop, She sits amongst grass of the softest hues and wildflowers in abundance.
Lost in her dreamtime her thoughts flew out and over the horizen, past white tipped waves that held shadows of a life as she allowed herself to return to her past. Tumbling and swirling into recollections, each holding whispers of words and images that flew into a kaleidoscope of iridescent colours, so brilliant within the darkness of her thoughts yet each weighed down with the pain that they brought.
She stepped within her mind over the rubble of broken hopes and dreams as she collected them all like a child clutches at the stems of flowers in their small and innocent hand.
But her past blooms held only pain and tears, damaged and bruised petals torn by confusion and fear.
Within this time and within her soul she inhaled the fragrance of her stories till now untold. Gathering each past moment in a bouquet now held together by slender wings of hope, her hands held them out for her own eyes to see and for her own heart to now acknowledge.
Tears flowing and washing away the debris of deceit to reveal the simplicity of her truth of what once was; her cheeks were damp with salt from past memories.
As she felt them flow and fall, the earth beneath her was nourished as it held and thankfully drank from her past to renew its own life and to release her from the shackles of long ago times.
A soft breeze watched her and reached out to her with it’s soft touch and caressed her form, lightly wiping the remnants of tears from her face.
The gentle whispering air grasping with care thus taking the memories and held them aloft only to hurl them up even higher still to be carried away to another place, to a time that is no longer, only to return as a friend, to caress and sooth her weary mind and heart.
Gentle as a balm to a tired spirit, its only desire to fulfill and touch with care and simple acceptance of a human form that holds a heart that can now be free to tread a new journey.
Now no longer held down by those invisible chains of memories I watch this young girl, I feel those burning tears. I see the cold dead flowers of her childhood leave. I remember her so well as she was me.