Drawn out in the far away oasis (cont.)
This is a forgotten place, one that exists outside of other places. Furthermore, no activity other than nature, ever disturbs this place. It is a hidden gem, a soul haven. And it sparkles in the noon day sun, reflecting that golden light in an intense, earthy way. It has everything an oasis needs, to be an oasis.
The breeze gathers momentum and rustles through the trees, as the hawk rides the current higher. Similarly the honeysuckle scent carries along the wind, it’s aroma tantalizing and sweet. A thick blanket of storm clouds has begun to form on the horizon, east of the city. Lightning flashes, periodically, as the storm churns into being. It would be over the city in an hour.
An old stone well sits back in the woods, not far from the edge of the unpaved road. Moreover, only the stone remains, the old wooden hand crank, and bucket rope, long since gone. This was once a home, long ago. Now it is an oasis, found in a world moved on. It was once, the center of a world, now it sits away from the world.
Far Away
Another five minutes is all there is to spare. An oasis would be even better if it were exempt from time. Being off the grid would be better, as well. The hawk has moved away, further into the sky, expanding the view of the hunting ground. Far away sounds of thunder carry in from the east, as the distant storm grows.
The trees rustle as the wind sighs, and the charm of this oasis is drawn out in time. Lingering and longing so closely intertwined, as to be impossible to depart. Maybe this is how it feels to have an oasis in the heart. The sunshine has dimmed from the gathering of the storms, and lightning flashes angrily in the distance.
The far away oasis holds it’s breath, expectant of succor from the building storms.The hawk has left the sky, the hunt complete, and the trees dance and sway to the music of the strengthening winds. The city waits in the distance, another world entirely. From here to there happens too swiftly, as the journey back begins.
