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Forever caged inside; never bearing the warm morning sunlight or tasting the undertones of salt in the breeze. Her skin ever growing pale, hair shrinking in length; the breeze never pulling it from its roots. Never knowing how the fruit trees stretch over to protect her from the harsh afternoon sun. She was always one to run from the outside world, too harsh for her fragile mind.

Four walls she confined herself to, holding her secrets and despairs. Anxieties and faults never meeting the moon’s eyes, never leaving her mouth nor the walls of her home she’d caged herself in. Her fingers embedded into the cherry wood of the frames of her bed, hair strands woven into the threads of her pillowcase; she had become a part of the house. Inspiration never came easy; only after a few tears did the words let onto the page of her next piece. Each one ripped from her body. 

People weren’t any better than the elements of the earth, intruding upon great the cycle so delicately crafted by the gods. Humans only served to abuse the gifts bestowed upon by Mother Earth.

Flower petals fell on her window sill, tinting the chipped white paint with delicate strokes of blushed cheeks. She was never curious enough to risk leaving her confines, coming face to trunk with the blossom tree that so often lost pieces of itself. She saw too much of herself in the brown bark and the branches reaching for heaven but only grazing it with the very end of its leaves. 

Her mother often scolded her for being so blind to the marvels of nature, so numb to the bliss of lying in the tranquility of the warm summer grass. Never stopped to savor the sweetness of the dew ridden jasmines in the morning or the freshness of the breeze combing through the great oak so close to her. Settling for the tranquility the rain offered on sad days, only feeling close to Mother Earth when the heavy drops of crystal fell onto her window mirroring the beats of her uneasy heart. Oblivious to the living creatures sharing her very same anguish at the hands of human nature. 

It wasn’t until disaster struck and everything was thrown off balance. She was forced to coexist with the elements she was so desperately oblivious to. The comfort of her confines had been disrupted; all four walls came crumbling down. Her fingers unlaced themselves, bidding the cherry wood a bitter goodbye. Her hair untangling itself from the fine threads of her bed sheets. 

She allowed herself to bask in the glow of the warm sunlight and the tingling breeze of the bay. Inspiration coming like the current of the river she had discovered was so close; anxieties and frets leaving one by one with every blow of the afternoon winds. The blossom tree had transitioned into a mighty giant bearing fruits native to her homeland; she would miss the blush colored petals. The found peace in the vibrant hues of summer flowers, magenta stimulating her eyes in a way she could have never imagined. The porcupine like shrub outside of her window had already drawn blood, not that she minded, blood was natural. It wasn’t the first time drawn had been drawn. 

Her eyes had been open to the mutual suffering the loving creatures and she shared; mankind had not been so kind to them either. Her mother praised her newfound appreciation for the surrounding elements. She couldn’t have foreseen how what she had avoided for so long would bring her the internal serenity she longed for. 

Rest seeped in through her pores as the breeze brushed through the strands of her hair, as it did with the leaves on the mighty fruit bearing trees. 


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