Musings - Poetic Artistry - Flights of Fancy
I was waiting.
Waiting for the Angel voice.
Waiting for the timeless alibi.
Waiting for the reverberation from a giant's silent world.
We had come to the water's edge, the giant and I. His forward facing eyes seemingly cast upon something beyond us both I swallowed, a little water, a little salt.
We were caught up in a flurry of harsh words, this giant and I and under clouds hanging low, I sensed a truth beginning to show. His signature black hair, loose and wet, aligning with a foreign symmetry the fury of his wind pressed in on me with his imminent approach.
"You were raised on a promise." He said his steadfast forward facing eyes looming above mine.
A long moment of sky passed between this giant and I.
"A promise?" My voice was trembling as tears gathered in my eyes.
A melody of swans floated above our lake. Holding my hand he traced our contrasting anatomy. " A promise." he repeated bending over to tenderly kiss a fallen tear. "A promise for Seraphina."
A Decorated Language
Adaline Dresden & Eden Clare