The Green I Want (Musing)

Green. The kind of green that has sun streaming through it; a closed-eyes-but-still-visible green. And quiet. The kind of quiet that might be punctuated by a frog in the distance or the sound of a katydid somewhere in the trees surrounding. And still. The still that only lives after prolonged fear and madness and chaos. Deep still. Earned still.

That’s what I want. I want my eyelids to flutter open, the way they might when you don’t know how long they’ve been closed, and meet this scene. I want to blink a few times, feel pressed grass below my head as I start to move, and then relax back. I want my eyes to close again and lay there for a moment, tasting the quiet and drinking the warmth on my skin. All’s finished. All is done. There’s no more war to go back to. There won’t be any more cold, rainy nights; no more mobs; no more tragic stories. No more what-if’s and gasps and horror. No more laying awake at night; trying to hold back tears; no more clenched jaws. No more misunderstandings; no more brinks of madness; no more futile conversations.

Imagine it for me. I can’t always – I can’t hold onto the picture. I can’t make it last beyond opening my eyes.


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