08-20-2015, 11:03 PM
This piece isn't strictly about Angelbabe and myself, but it was nonetheless inspired by her, our relationship, and a thought I had of swaying grass one sleepless night.
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A Sea of Color
by Siegfried Danzinger
There was a goddess who swam through air. High above the earth, at times, and not so high at others. She had ears that caught every word and whisper carried on the wind. On a very beautiful day, in particular, she heard a strange sound come with the breeze. She swam low, gently brushing the tops of tall trees and scattering their leaves. Below her, on a stone amidst a field of swaying, yellow grass, sat a boy. The boy was crying.
The goddess lighted upon a tree branch and called to him, "What is the matter? It is a beautiful day. The sun is warm, and the breeze is cool."
The boy looked up at the goddess and replied, "The day is beautiful. The sun is warm. The breeze is cool. All these things are true."
"Then why do you cry?" asked the goddess with a tilt of her head. The wind caught her hair, and her hair caught the sun. The strands broke up the sunlight into many colors and scattered it across the field. The boy sat under and amidst a rainbow.
"There is joy in my heart," he admitted. "But there is a sadness in me, also."
"Will you give some of it to me?" said she. "So that we may both be very happy and a little sad?"
The boy was glad at her words, but he wept all the more. "No," he answered. "It is mine. And if I didn't keep it, I would not know joy when I saw it."
"Then I can only help you to be happy when you will be happy."
A tear fell upon the stone where the boy sat; it made a dark little spot on the gray surface. He bowed his head. "Then," he hesitated a moment. "Will you leave me?" A second little spot formed on the stone. A third. A fourth. Countless others. But they were not made from tears. It was raining.
The goddess floated down from her perch and joined the boy. "No," said the goddess. "But neither will I be as happy as I might be. Not when you are sad."
Whether it was an arm or a wing or a wisp of warm air that went round him, the boy did not know. The grass, now a sea of color, swayed quietly to and fro. And though it rained, the boy was not alone.
---
A Sea of Color
by Siegfried Danzinger
There was a goddess who swam through air. High above the earth, at times, and not so high at others. She had ears that caught every word and whisper carried on the wind. On a very beautiful day, in particular, she heard a strange sound come with the breeze. She swam low, gently brushing the tops of tall trees and scattering their leaves. Below her, on a stone amidst a field of swaying, yellow grass, sat a boy. The boy was crying.
The goddess lighted upon a tree branch and called to him, "What is the matter? It is a beautiful day. The sun is warm, and the breeze is cool."
The boy looked up at the goddess and replied, "The day is beautiful. The sun is warm. The breeze is cool. All these things are true."
"Then why do you cry?" asked the goddess with a tilt of her head. The wind caught her hair, and her hair caught the sun. The strands broke up the sunlight into many colors and scattered it across the field. The boy sat under and amidst a rainbow.
"There is joy in my heart," he admitted. "But there is a sadness in me, also."
"Will you give some of it to me?" said she. "So that we may both be very happy and a little sad?"
The boy was glad at her words, but he wept all the more. "No," he answered. "It is mine. And if I didn't keep it, I would not know joy when I saw it."
"Then I can only help you to be happy when you will be happy."
A tear fell upon the stone where the boy sat; it made a dark little spot on the gray surface. He bowed his head. "Then," he hesitated a moment. "Will you leave me?" A second little spot formed on the stone. A third. A fourth. Countless others. But they were not made from tears. It was raining.
The goddess floated down from her perch and joined the boy. "No," said the goddess. "But neither will I be as happy as I might be. Not when you are sad."
Whether it was an arm or a wing or a wisp of warm air that went round him, the boy did not know. The grass, now a sea of color, swayed quietly to and fro. And though it rained, the boy was not alone.
![[Image: bic7lIo.png]](http://i.imgur.com/bic7lIo.png)
![[Image: angelbabe_by_passer_in_the_storm-d9n46hy.png]](http://orig12.deviantart.net/3e26/f/2016/007/f/5/angelbabe_by_passer_in_the_storm-d9n46hy.png)
![[Image: P2gVYQb.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/P2gVYQb.jpg)