Living Works of Art
Essay Preview: Living Works of Art
Report this essay
Living Works of Art
The darkness is so deafening that the birds have yet to sing and nevertheless I am startled from my slumber by a fierce siren ringing in my head. As I peel the paste from my heavy eyes, I am quickly reminded of my dismal surroundings. One glance out my window predicts a dim and gloomy day. The inside atmosphere adds no improvement. It is an emotionless and sterile place. Its blank canvas creates a feeling of abandonment and despair. The renaissance I so admire, as I look around just isnt there. I often ponder what could have caused such a careless disregard in designing this incomplete space. Was it a lack of time or just in poor taste?
Unwillingly, I give my feet permission to touch the floor. It is then that I feel the warmth flash down over my body. I suddenly feel cozy as if I were covered in fleece. It is in my anticipation that I may enter the wonderment of an enchanting garden that awaits me just outside these walls. The place that will awaken my heart and artistically enhance all my senses in a whisper, it calls.
With pastel pink colored rose petals and waves of dancing zebras over the plateau; its simply beautiful in there! Butterflies flutter to and fro. The calming breeze whispers throughout, calling my name and welcoming me in. I can but reach out to touch its gentleness and cling it to my bosom where it will remain eternally. In the background I can hear an angelic psalm whistling ever so softly. It expresses purity, truth and love. The serenity of it overcomes me and practically takes my breath away. There are towering knolls of soft cottons and fleece as far as I can see. I want to reach out and touch them, but instead I stay put and admire their grandeur. Far and wide is a clutter of rainbows placed systematically just for me. I am particularly fond of the magnificent saccharine that fills the space. How can such beauty exist in such close proximity to the doldrums I have just left behind? The art of creation is superior to none. Its so magical! I should think it is but a dream!
A dream it is not. It is a delightful privilege bestowed to me from the heavens above. I am so grateful to have been given this Eden on Earth. It is a perfectly painted landscape in hopeful harmony. That without the clutter, this place would lack-luster, you see. What a wonderful vision to awaken tired eyes. The innocence and beauty cannot be erased or covered by lies. Not in this moment. I cannot let it waste. I have been given my glory and must now get ready to race. The day is not over; its only begun. I do not look forward to disturbing the space; however, its time for the rose bud to awaken and show me her face. Oh, what a splendor to view the full flower that once was a bud. These are the moments that linger and stay tucked away in my heart. I carry them with me throughout each and every day. Nothing or no one can take them away.
This is my mornings interpretation. Its what gives me momentum and sunshine to start out on my destination. My enchanted garden