This girl has been encountered before, though her scent has never been smelled, the taste of her lips has never greeted the eager palate, nor her touch been felt caressing the skin. Through the lens of another admirer, her image has been seen and recorded into a permanent memory. She exists as both a real and imagined persona, but neither of these two has communicated with each other. The imagined is being searched for, while the real will be the end result of the search. Full knowledge of this is kept in its rightful place within the mind, but the prospect seems so great that, though disappointment is a grim possibility, it fails to hinder the progress in any way. In all actuality the real persona is more than could ever have been imagined. All the pedestals and ideals of this female have fallen short of her grandeur. Her looks are unmatched by even Dante’s Beatrice, who guided him through the paradisio and into the warm glow of his God.
Pale skin compliments her unnaturally dark locks, which must be kept up once every waxing and waning period, and also allows the brilliance of her eyes to be seen from across an eternity. When those eyes attach themselves to another a temporal anomaly occurs and everything surrounding the two parties begins to slow to a stop. During this lapse in time (that one could only wish to last forever, but ends despairingly too soon) all the sensations of the world course through eager veins. All the senses become consumed by the eyes of this girl and become amplified to the point of exasperation and utter ecstasy, and just when the body nearly convulses from this sudden flood of emotional captivity, the gaze is broken and time resumes its natural course. It is amazing how two organs used to view the world can have such an effect on someone. After all, what are eyes? Nothing but two liquid covered hollow orbs of tissue, and in most cases are regarded as unpleasant to the touch. Yet the eyes have an amazing power like that which was described. Beyond the simple gravity of the eyes, they also provide a way of determining many different things about a person.
Emotions and personalities are conveyed through many facets, but can be hidden from nearly everything except the eyes. Staring into these “mirrors”, as an author once called them, anger, lust, love, happiness, the entire array of humanness can be seen. Memories are stored in these pools, an entire lifetime of dreams, hopes and aspirations, all residing inside something so seemingly trivial. What a marvel the eyes are! And the eyes of the young girl tell the story of someone who has been hated, abused, forgotten, lusted after, and left behind. Though she hides the trials of her life well, there is no cloaking them within the realm of her emerald windows to the soul.
As her laughter subsides, the girl looks deep into the night sky at the stars and takes a deep breath. She holds the cold air in her lungs as long as she can before breathing it out slowly with a content smile upon her face. The air making its way slowly out of her throat and across her lips makes her feel alive. A night like this is one she will always remember, when she feels filled with the world, filled with all the life that it contains. The surroundings brimming with the things that make life worth living, the color of the sky, the movement of the trees, the sounds of conversation in the cafe down the road; all the things in the world teaming with life in all its brilliance. She sees this and realizes that each and every thing is so beautiful; from the dirt in the ground, to the trees, to the people who inhabit the earth. With all the differences in appearances, species, even the type of thing itself (i.e. trees, rocks, people, animals) everything comes from the same thing, the stars. Every atom that makes up a person, a mountain, or anything on the terrestrial sphere originates in the heart of the solar nebula. In this sense everything is connected and is full of the same life and existence. Everything is one and the same, and every person is in one-way or another the same as another person.
This idea has a profound effect on the girl as she breathes the air out of her lungs, which will feed the plant life, which will expel the oxygen she needs to survive. And upon her death, she knows that her body will become the fodder to sprout all kinds of new life and continue the cycle on and on. Knowing simply and absolutely these facts of life, she can't help but feel so energized about being alive, and ready for anything that might come her way. She knows that every stumble she has along the way only helps her to value this gift more. This night air also has an added feature that is somewhat strange, but makes her feel even more giddy and excited to see what the days ahead will bring. Placing the bookmark back into her book she decides to go to sleep early on this night and dream of the things to come.
Her bed is plain and seemingly uninspired, but on the contrary it isn’t the dressings on it that show its true colors. The adventures, romances, and tragedies within the sheets, in that state of slumber, are what design the beauty of it. Kneeling in front of the bed she begins her nightly prayers. These are general run of the mill prayers of the common believer: praying for the well being of her family and those close to her, for the unfortunate who cannot pull themselves out of the situations they have been encumbered in and placing a special addendum about this strange feeling that has come over her, asking for clarification. The strange thing about her prayers is that no one ever taught her about the Bible (Koran, Torah, Bahavad Gita, etc.) or took her to church, her idea of God developed of its own accord, not a sudden realization, but a process over a lifetime. For her there was always a lingering feeling that something was always over her shoulder, keeping a watchful eye on her actions. Not in the sense that it was interfering on or against her behalf, but was just watching, like the loving eyes of a mother whose child struggles with forming its words or trying to stand on its own.
So she began to pray, not for things in a direct sense, but simply for guidance in decisions important in her life. Whether or not this really had any affect, it gave her a feeling of self-assurance and the confidence to proceed with what she felt was right. She scarcely has time to place her head on the pillow before that dark veil of sleep consumes her. However, the blackness of her eyelids closing is brief, for her dreams come so rapidly that she scarcely has time to ward off the image of her room before they begin. An almost seamless transition occurs. One moment she is in her bedroom, the next she is on a boat out at sea.
