Inspiration (n.) 1. a breathing in, as of air into lungs; inhaling 2. an inspiring or being ispired mentally or emotionally 3. a.) an inspiring influence; anystimulus to creative thought or action b.) an inspired idea, action, etc. 4. a prompting of something written or said
in a small room on the edge of town where the creek flows by, the boy's pupils dance in enjoyment as they pass over the letters, words, and phrases of the stimulating document. More is the word he longed for. A model for a life he could aspire to become with enough determination. He loved the way it made him feel. The sound of it all, the rhythm, the way it fit into his head so perfectly. This will be the life i live he thought. Tic...tock...tic...tock...
pattern (n.) 1. a person or thing considered worthy of imitation or copying 2. a regular, mainly unvarying way of action or doing 3. a predictable or prescribed route
the girl goes for long walks every day. she circles a three block radius in her small town filled with oak trees and the scent of late autumn. but today she decides to do something different. she thinks of the park and hides a smile so that no one peering through windows would notice. there is creek that runs through the park with a bridge over it. a perfect place for walking. so when she comes to the part of the block where she had previously turned for home, she walks straight and tries not to falter. she feels guilty and strange, but full of pride. she wonders what walking somewhere new could mean.
journey (n.) 1. the act or an instance of traveling from one place to another; trip 2. any course or passage from one stage or experience to another.
the blind man is miles away from his house. miles away from anything that could conventionally be defined as "easy." though all he does in his travels is make his observers experience a momntary lapse of sight. look at the blind man, all the people think as he passes. isn't that amazing? what a fool i am complaining about all the unimportant troubles in my life. though later, when the blind man has reached the boundaries of the onlooker's eyes, they forget about it and go back to the blindness of their every day lives. most times it's easier not to have conventional sight thinks the blind man.
eye (n.) 1. conjunctiva, anterior chamber, cornea, iris, ciliary body, lens, retina, choroid, sclera, vitreous body, lateral rectus muscle, medial retus muscle, optic disk, optic nerve 2. the organ of sight in man and animals 3. the power of seeing; sight; vision 4. a look; glance; gaze; an eye on something 5. the power of judging, estimating, discriminating by eyesight.
autumn is the kind of month for breathing in deep gusts of air and only exhaling when something beautiful happens. as the grass waits patiently for the frost to visit, the wind decides which cloud gets to keep its shape. the clover fields prepare to live without children running through them for awhile. and a single branch on a yonder tree feels that a leaf attached to the end of its index finger is making the others too self-conscious with its liquid orange and crimson red, so lets go prematurely. now the others will have inspiration to drop, thinks the tree.
next to the creek that runs through the town, a small, brilliantly colored leaf slowly makes its way towards the earth. it glides back and forth as the wind cradles it as if a mother putting her child to sleep. sight seeing tour? wonders the leaf as it touches the crisp autumn water. it emarks on a journey down creek to visit things it will see only once and then never see again. i better look more closely at this than i have at anything else before thinks the leaf. he smiles and travels with the creek as the cold water begins to sink in and his colors begin to run.
the boy goes and sits down next to the creek by his house, feeling strange and new to himself; wondering how words can make pictures so vividly. he watches the water and thinks i could be a rock in the creek and shape myself around something that is always moving. he stands up straight and steps lightly into the cold, crisp water. then lays down and smiles. the water passes over his body while always moving. some stays in his cloths to remind him of where he is. to remind him of the cold. something else traveling down the creek becomes held up just below his face so the boy sits up quickley. where are you going? asks the boy. to the park says the leaf. but why? says the boy. because i have never been there, answers the leaf, and soon i'll be dead. then i will give you this says the boy and writes his gift upon the leaf. this will help you on your way. thanks you says the leaf and then travels on.
the girl sits on the bridge that runs over creek in the park and waves her feet back and forth across the very top of water. strange she thinks. why did i come here? the leaf passes below her and catches he eye. so standding up quickly she travels creek side to investigate. she grabs it out of the water then sits neatly back down amongst the cold tall grass. what is this written on you? asks the girl. Only what the boy knows says the leaf. but am i to know what this means? she questions. am i to know why i pass through here? asks the leaf.
most patterns can be found anywhere. the age of a tree, the veins of a leaf, even tiny snowflakes that will soon cover the small town entirely, have patterns in them.
most boys of that kind had eyes of blue, with sparks of fire in them. the girls with brown eyes are most often wise and much older looking. but the eyes of blind men take the cake. their eyes are usually the lightest and kindest shade of green that ever would have existed with just a slight glaze of uslessness to them.
the girl takes the leaf to her seat on the bridge. i don't understand you, says the girl do you know what it means? i already told you, replies the leaf only what the boy knows. are you to say that i can't know what the boy knows? inquires the girl. the pauses to collect his patience and the speaks soft kindly to the girl. you he begins are not the boy.
inspiration had been given to the leaf in the form of tiny numbers scrawled upon them. they would always repeat, but the leaf could never tell how. it puzzled his and he wondered in amazement over it each and every second.
the boy runs home to put on new clothes. he is cold from the river and shaking violently. underwear, socks, pants, shirt, sweater, jacket, boots. to the park he thinks...maybe i can still catch it. he runs and steam flies from his hair like his whole head is smoking.
no one but the bridge paid much attention to the water. bridges respect water very much. often, the bridge over the creek through the park would comment, looking good today creek. good luck to wherever it is that you're going. say hi to all my friends you pass under. safe journey.
synoyms for journey: expedition, trip, excursion, trek, jaunt, pilgrimage, tour.
Analogy: a pattern is to life as?
a.) desire is to the boy
b.) pride is to the girl
c.) true sight is to the blind
d.) wonderment is to the leaf
e.) respect is to the bridge
f.) journey is to us all
g.) all of the above.
arriving at the park, the boy sits down to catch his breath, then gets up and goes to the creek.
synonyms for eye: organ of sight, optic receiver, simple eye, oculus, compound eye; intrument of vision.
the girl leaves her spot on the bridge and sits down on a bench next to the blind man. he must know of pride thinks the girl. she waits patienly for the blind man to ask her a question or start a conversation. nothing. the girl taps her foot and thinks about the things written on the leaf. what does the boy know? if i, nor the leaf know what the boy knows, does the blind man know what the boy knows?she doesn't want anyone to think that she doesn't know what the boy knows...so continues to sit patiently next to the blind man.
the girl takes out the leaf and studies it carefully. keep quiet she thinks to herself. don't give away what you don't know.
as things quiet down that day in the park, and all the noise of regular life recedes, the creek begins to sing quietly to calm itself on its journey.
the blind man sits quietly and listens to the creek. what inspiration he thiks. always traveling, always seeing new things, and always singing to inspire. thank you creek.
behind his glasses and a slight glaze of uslessness the blind man's eyes inspect what the leaf is feeling, and sees that he too understands the song of the creek.
the boy runs to the bridge that crosses over the creek. have you seen a leaf here? asks the boy. i've seen many leaves pass through here answers the bridge.
what to do now? wonders the boy. i need to sit down and think. the boy goes to the middle of the park where benches can be found next to the walkways and the playground. i'll sit on the see-saw and maybe then the answer will come.
the girl sees another on the see-saw and wonders if it's time to play. she puts the leaf in the blind man's lap and walks over to the playground.
my eyes can see this thinks the blind man, rubbing his thumbs over the leaf. this makes perfect sense. this is what the girl wanted to know.
i have been on an immense journey says the leaf. can you tell me what has been written?
a pattern. answers the blind man, the most wonderful pattern that could grace anything on this earth.
what inspiration! exclaims the leaf, and to think all this time i had no idea.
some eyes can only see the sights on their journey states the blind man but never what that journey has to show.
both the boy and the girl sit on the see-saw. desire thinks the boy. pride thinks the girl. they each stay perfectly horizontal in the air and the see-saw doesn't falter.
sometimes a pattern brings inspiration says the leaf.