Curious Encounter

English class, 2 or 3 years ago.

On a sunny summer day

High in the woods at Grandma’s house

When all else fell from interest

Through the woods I did roam

 

Setting off alone, leaving Grandma far behind

I trek upward, with a warm whispering wind

A warm whispering wind…

And in the golden silence, it was as if time was pinned

 

Upon a calm, quiet clearing I stumbled

In my lonesome thoughtful wandering

And in that tranquil glen

I stood transfixed, silently pondering

 

Then I heard the music

Melodious and beautiful, like a flute

Melodious and beautiful…

All other sounds became moot

 

And I pondered its origin

I was so sure I was alone

Roaming the forest in my solo journey

Or had I encountered the unknown?

 

“It’s beautiful,” I said

As I speculated, who had it come from?

Who had it come from?

What magick fingers could weave such an unparalleled strum?

 

But my curious wonderment soon ended

For I was a child, and children always know

They perceive magick, without boundaries of reality, colorless like a moonbow

Their world is purely color, a rainbow

 

Adults would ramble off a silly explanation

But there are some who know enough to say

It takes a child’s spirit eye

To see and know the fey.