A soft whisper reaches my ears; I listen to a girl’s dream of becoming a butterfly.
Her young emphasis is on the places she will fly over: monosyllables, bi-syllables, tri-syllables, I can’t distinguish one word from another because the sound bounces not only in her head, but also as her words come out to me. I am certain such wings will glide silently over magic places.
Then silence… the young artist who created the image of a robust tree, nevertheless remains speechless. I look again and am able to grasp her melodic thoughts, the tree is more than an object, a reflection of her quietness and silence.
An acute laughter reaches me from a far distance; this roaring entrance is the prelude of a tiny girl’s loud appraisal of love. Her worship is represented in a drawing of concentric petals reaching every corner of the paper where it is represented. The child knows well the melodious instrument of her voice and the rhythmical insistence did catch my attention upon her design.
Second movement: Adagio. All voices come together; the uhh, uhh, of the childish owl’s design and the meows of a cat and the distant light of a landscape.
Dozens of kids echoing the sounds of their designs: earth vibrations, mythic acoustics of distant seas, world, wishes.
Only one voice within them.
Only one voice.
Only one.
One.
Her young emphasis is on the places she will fly over: monosyllables, bi-syllables, tri-syllables, I can’t distinguish one word from another because the sound bounces not only in her head, but also as her words come out to me. I am certain such wings will glide silently over magic places.
Then silence… the young artist who created the image of a robust tree, nevertheless remains speechless. I look again and am able to grasp her melodic thoughts, the tree is more than an object, a reflection of her quietness and silence.
An acute laughter reaches me from a far distance; this roaring entrance is the prelude of a tiny girl’s loud appraisal of love. Her worship is represented in a drawing of concentric petals reaching every corner of the paper where it is represented. The child knows well the melodious instrument of her voice and the rhythmical insistence did catch my attention upon her design.
Second movement: Adagio. All voices come together; the uhh, uhh, of the childish owl’s design and the meows of a cat and the distant light of a landscape.
Dozens of kids echoing the sounds of their designs: earth vibrations, mythic acoustics of distant seas, world, wishes.
Only one voice within them.
Only one voice.
Only one.
One.
You are highly original Elena!
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