“…now I know she was not fugitive nor gloomy,
was a message from the sun.”
G.K. Chesterton, Autobiography
The winds, one by one, begin to show. They move the shadows under their voices. And she, stopped, standing, is listening to the breeze hitting trees, mountains, rocks and animals. She is listening to the breeze hitting her ears.
She contemplates and waits.
When the time is right, she steps into the air and then, suspended, time stops.
I never saw her fly.
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Tags: Clarinets, Composition, Dream, flutes, instrumental, Wind Instruments, woodwinds
