Longing

I no longer have to close my eyes to visit the Mirage. I stare out into space as the world fades around me. A sudden buzzing noise rising in the air. White light takes over my view. The ambiance is unforgettable. A slow and overtaking hum vibrates all around my still body. Light faded shades of green and purple and a touch of red with yellow begin to join the white world. Am I the only one here? “Hello?” I say, “Hello?”

A soft reverberation of my words echoes past me. I look around sharply. Not a soul to be seen. My eyes move upwards to see the clouds of longing move slowly like turtles walking in a shallow stream. A strike of pink fills the sky then fades into a deep purple. New I think to myself. I look around again to see a small black dot in the distance. Is this the Mirage I long for?

I start my journey by taking my first step forwards. As I move towards the dot in the distance, tiny blades of grass start to brush against my bare feet. Suddenly I’m walking atop of a field of grass. The clouds of childhood float overhead. The white grass begins to change into green like dye being dropped into water. Little flowers of pink and yellow, blue and purple, green and white, begin to sprout as I walk on and on... and on. My eyes are relieved as the white sky with its many colors shifts to a calm blue. Light is shining down from above; it’s around noon. I know the day, I know the place. I stand in the open field of my memory. The cool summer wind flows past me as a warm feeling of nostalgia. Those puffy clouds of my childhood remain high and proud above, drifting slowly further into the past. The sound fills my ears and causes my eyes to swell with tears of solace. The dot reveals itself as the smooth yellow canary from long ago. He perches on a tall flower in the field of grass. The vegetation is up to my knees as I begin to walk through to the yellow bird. His beautiful song is in air. He sings of happiness and joy. He sings of remembrance. He sings of love. The single Cornflower stands in the field. The blue, somber as the wind, lay across the many intricate petals woven into the yellowish core. Two orange feet wrap gently around the green stem of the Cornflower. The canary’s head turns feverishly as he chirps his soft song for me. The orange beak of yesterday shines through my memory like a fish drawn to a shiny piece of shell. I wanted him so badly. He was so free, so pure. I could never cage him. He was what I longed to be, free. Suddenly, yet awaited, the once dot, lifts off from the stem and flies past me once more. Watching him fly away was like watching the sunset... at noon. He was gone too soon. All I have left of the perfect bird on that perfect day is in my memory, my sanctum, my sanctuary, my home. I stand alone in field of flowers now. My mind begins to become unclear for the remainder of the day is unimportant- suddenly, the grass fades, the sky fades, even the ground beneath my feet fades, as I snap back to reality. The hustling cars outside my window rush by with such speed and sound that I’m broken from my reverie. My once new apartment fills my eyes as the busy night life of New York fills my ears.

“One day... one day.”