A forgotten beginning

A view of the wild

A forgotten beginning
(Taken from the voyages of “The Wild Sea-Rose”)

 

Rising out from the dust that casts upward in flight upon a storm’s arrival, the clinkering sounds of chattering bricks fill the air as her feet bolt at a frantic pace along a deserted laneway.

Here in a long since forgotten town to a blue sky company where sparse wildflowers litter the cracks between the broken cobblestone pavement, while the weatherboards of once past homes, reside tilted, turned askew beneath their rooves, grappling to their oblique stumps as if to exhale would mean their last.

Still her feet pound up through the manmade crippled earth, while the bitter wind takes its bite upon her scant stumble for survival, Spinifex Seeds, stripped, cut at every step made through the now billowing rant of too fine a driven sands.

Between each now fresh glancing blow by reckless thrashing chains of charged light, their struggle furore bent wild upon ground and sky, failing to slow her fervour to push on, lungs strained, her beating heart pulsing the course, a will to out run the tide.

When wall upon wall, liquid darts, arrows, spears; rain hurled by the winds of chasing time, to weigh heavy in the never-ending broken silence as her strides slow rapid in the instant, sliding to a complete and unceremonious standstill.

Kate’s will braves her intuition as it screams from within her soul, every part of her being, soaked by the challenge while stalled in the moment, her head wheels about as her body on instinct follows, each foot, each stride propels her face first back into the storm, back along the gutted laneway filling with water where hailstones begin to hurtle.

When in full flight her outline vanishes inside an ever-growing density in jagged frozen water, a cry aloud, then silence, just silence in ice collisions, while the minutes pass as the storm dissolves into the distance.

Standing motionless, battered, bruised, bleeding, as slow the bolts, twisted chunks of ice melt beneath her feet, to each her mind and heart waits.

When her feet turn to the East, she leaves the strict ridged course born from in a deserted laneway, to depart, part ways within a broken lost beauty about this forgotten town, a place people said will always stand. Though, reaching down, placing her hand into the ice-cold water, Kate of the Wild Sea-Rose lifts out a wildflower afloat, cast adrift in temporary currents of the storms great melt.

To raise it almost to her eye level, then breathes in the scent while walking to the edge of town, where a young boy with his dog at the cusp to the forest’s wild, waits for her attention, and with its roots still in tact, Kate plants it once more into the now moist earth of the storm tarnished surround.

Then without looking back, Kate, the young boy and his dog, walk out into the beyond, deep into the Wild, until they vanish from sight..

 

Ghosts and Wine of ol’Reunion Way – (Taken from the voyages of “The Wild Sea-Rose”)

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