It was not the depth of the green lake that stopped Meredith, but the quietness.
She threw a stone, sending ripples in the lake, which emphatically made the quietness more evident. This silence scared her, for she could hear her mind talk ceaselessly.
Sitting under a tree, Meredith gazed at the path she came through and saw a tiny bird, green and yellow in colour, happily hopping near it.
Her childhood wish to become a bird made her smile. She took out her diary and wrote –
Like a bird I’ll fly
When the chains will rot
At 7:45 dot
And if the spirit remembers
Out of deep slumber
That I can –
Searching for a word, Meredith happened to glance at the tiny bird that was now hopping near the tree. She then observed that the path through which she came had vanished.
She got up and looked around as if the path would walk back and settle where it was laid before.
Confused, she took a few steps in the hope to find the path. Was the path just in her mind, she thought.
The tiny bird hopped towards her and then flew away. Meredith noticed, to her amazement, that there lay a fresh track – the steps that she took, formed a new path.
Meredith felt her heartbeat increase; she then walked towards the lake. Ponderously she turned and found the fresh path stretched to the point where she was standing.
Amused, she walked ahead, giggled and hopped, only to stop and write in her diary –
That I can choose to either
Follow or make a new path
Meredith picked up a stone, threw it in the lake, and beamed.
It was not only the lotus flowers in the lake but the music it played that left her mesmerized.
- Shakespeare’s Sonnet 107 and Timelessness
- Jasmine-Rich Raga
- Not Lithic
- Spirited Away and the Art of Forgetfulness
- O Apache!