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Field of Poppies
Posted by Hannah, Oct 9, 2008. 382 views. ID = 1869
This post was written in 8 minutes.
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She stands in a field of poppies,
trying hard to see past the trees
that surround the flowers
to the other side of the world,
where beasts sleep and angels roam.
The unwavering sun pounds down
on her vulnerable head as unspoken thoughts beat inside.
She is not alone, as there are others.
They stand and, like her, try to see,
but sight, beyond the grove, is impossible.
She slouches in the middle of the clearing,
the simple orange flowers tickling her bare feet,
but she wants to see the unknown.
She steps toward the trees, frightened,
as they loom over her like monsters.
The others stare towards her in wonder,
seeming to wake from a dream,
as she steps through the fog.
The tree branches with their long, thin fingers
grab at her clothes as she walks,
leaving behind the sun and the poppies.
Behind her is light,
ahead is only darkness and strange sounds;
weird smells lingering in thick air.
Her feet lightly trod on a heavily worn path,
but she walks alone and she wonders what looms in the darkness.
Amid the bushes surrounding her,
a loud growl sounds and she jumps into the brush,
her blood pumping and adrenaline high,
as she bounds away from the path.
Tears of sorrow run down her face as she tries to find her way.
Dark is horrifying when faced alone,
and she cries out for help,
as her hope drains out of her body,
seemingly flying as though on swift wings.
She wishes she had never left
the field of bright sunlight and the beautiful poppies.
The darkness presses in,
suffocating her and forcing her to crouch
and take in deep, hungry breaths.
There is movement all around
but she cannot trust it.
No one can help her now.
Just as all of her hope flies away on Despair's wings,
brilliant light shines through
and she smiles with her heart
at a familiar voice that calls her name.
Her spirit flutters and takes wing,
flying out of her chest on hot air,
as she rushes and presses through the dark,
and exits into extravagant light of the most beautiful kind.
Laughter rings and children sing
as she walks in to the applause and congratulations
of the thousands who have come before.
Her dirty and ragged clothes seem to not matter as she smiles
and steps into the field of poppies.
Copyright 2008 Hannah. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
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