Swinging

Friday, May 10, 2013 | post a comment {0}

  You clench your fists tighter as your head swings back. Feet thrown in the air, you close your eyes and feel the freezing rain slice across your face.

  Suddenly, a pause in movement.

  Stuck in time for just a second, you forget the screaming at home, the fighting and misfortune and sadness. It's just you. You and your tears and the sky's tears too. The ground is gross; it's fleshy and formless, making you feel as though you will drown if your feet come close to it. The grass is teeth, and you swear they want to swallow you whole.

  You think about how that wouldn't be so bad. You swing back down towards the very earth that terrifies you. Looking at the dull, rolling sky, you scream to the clouds, willing them to soak up your anger and take it elsewhere. As if on cue, the rain stops and you feel like God is mocking you.

  The sun begins to shine down, and you grimace as the heat hits your wet body. You ponder what is more idiotic: choosing to swing in the park during a storm, or feeling miserable when the weather becomes nice. You feel sheepish as you realize you've only ever wanted to wallow in your own self-pity. You screw your eyes shut in embarrassment.

  You're reaching near the top of your swing again, and you are higher than you had ever gotten before. Your breath catches, and you open your eyes. You see the grass waving beneath you, rippling like the sea from a soft breeze. The sea...the sea... Was the grass always so green? The sky is a bright blue color, and the clouds are just right. You reach the top of your self-induced pendulum and again, there's a pause in time.

  But in this instance, there is a moment of clarity.

  The world is beautiful, and you are wonderful. This life is real, and you should be hopeful. It has its ups, it has its downs, but it is much like the swing you sit on and the weather you face. Swinging, unsure, but striving for a better tomorrow.