Once upon a time...
There lived a young girl. She was plainer than most girls her age, but her personality was brightest. She crouched low and conversed with the ants carrying scraps of food back to their queen. She stretched out on the grass, falling into fitful sleeps that no down-feather bed could ever provide. She streaked her cheeks with mud and ran through the forests. She was a wild child; untamed like the forests she called her home.
From the peak of the tallest mountain lived a boy. He was more beautiful than most, but he retreated into himself, letting no one in. He whispered the words of the wind and sang the songs of birds. He stretched the tips of his fingers and touched the clouds. He cradled the moon his hands and breathed the dust of stars. He was a calm boy; serene like the cloudy summer days.
Two unlikely people meet and fall in love. He is drawn to her carefree spirit and wild eyes. She is drawn to his calm smile and eyes that hold universes.
They meet only once. It sparks off an obsession. He craves the feel of the grass beneath his feet. She wishes to sleep upon the clouds.
She begins to climb the tallest towers, sitting upon them and staring into the sky. She hopes for a glimpse of the boy in the clouds. He begins to hover as close to the ground as he dares, imagining the feel of the grass on the pads of his fingers. He, too, hopes for a glimpse of the wild girl in the brush.
Yet the two were never meant to meet. She climbs higher and higher, forsaking her domain. The flowers begin to wilt and the grass withers up. The fruit in the trees begin to rot, dropping to the dying grass forlornly. As she climbs higher and higher so does he creep lower and lower. He forsakes his domain. The sun hides behind clouds the dullest gray. The sky weeps for its creator, dirty tears falling to the dead ground. The stars do not shine and the moon does not smile.
The balance is lost... and still the two do not meet.
"It's true," he thinks, foot finally touching the grass, once so vibrant and lush, now dull and brown. "The bird does not belong anywhere but the sky."
She stares to the hidden sun, rain lashing at her face. "The worm was never meant to fly," she muses.
And so he flies back to his sky while she climbs back down to her earth. For a brief moment, they meet. She stares at the beautiful boy of the sky. He smiles at the wild girl from the earth.
Her feet touch the ground; his hands touch the sky. Order is restored. Yet the boy still longs to hold hands with the girl of the ground. So, too, does the girl wish to catch a glimpse of the boy from the clouds.
And so they wait for the worlds to meet on the day the summer turns white.
I am secretly a sap.
I just finished an essay for one of my classes and needed to get my creative juices flowing. If there's one thing I hate about writing papers for school (besides actually writing them), it's stifling my creativity for the sake of sounding "professional" or some crap like that. Oh well, I'll get used to it. I've got a few more years left of it yet.