Zephyr
Zephyr wind stories
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stadarooni
stadarooniEmpathy is the human superpower.
Autoplay OFF  •  3 months ago
The taste of tomorrow was a promise.

Zephyr

(Foreward) There is a lengthy aside at the end of this piece, so stick around for that. ;)

Here, beyond the struggle,

Here, beyond the struggle, my fairytales aren’t set upon the fire of fears.

Here, beyond the struggle,

Here, beyond the struggle, The sky glitters in bands of clouds.

Here, beyond the struggle, The sky glitters in bands of clouds. Cotton kisses of a thousand summer mornings,

Here, beyond the struggle, The sky glitters in bands of clouds. Cotton kisses of a thousand summer mornings, flavoured from flamingos to tangerine.

Silk and citrus, dreams and a dandelion day.

I hear a performance of piano-tile-pirouettes,

I hear a performance of piano-tile-pirouettes, whispering wonder as zeppelins zigzag the zephyr.

I hear a performance of piano-tile-pirouettes, whispering wonder as zeppelins zigzag the zephyr. They prance in a trance like inflated firecrackers,

I hear a performance of piano-tile-pirouettes, whispering wonder as zeppelins zigzag the zephyr. They prance in a trance like inflated firecrackers, breathing azure adventures as infinity ignites.

I sit here,

I sit here, soliloquized in synonyms of sweetness,

I sit here, soliloquized in synonyms of sweetness, lathered in the love of a latte as myriad memories glide from imagination to ink

I sit here, soliloquized in synonyms of sweetness, lathered in the love of a latte as myriad memories glide from imagination to ink like a suite of smiling seasons, sketched in my starlight.

Oh, the prairie pleasure of a bicycle breeze one sultry summer solstice,

Oh, the prairie pleasure of a bicycle breeze one sultry summer solstice, bells chirping like bluebirds all blurred in midday mirages.

Yet – was it that happy?

I remember dithering days darkening in a paradiddle of tears.

Tick,

tock.

Tick,

tock.

“You can’t fly,” he told me.

“You can’t fly,” he told me. “I can’t fly,” I said.

Numerous negatives to numb,

Numerous negatives to numb, crumbling my cranium from that monster called midnight and –

Yet, didn’t I fly, beyond the struggle?

Yet, didn’t I fly, beyond the struggle? The chapters changed, the taste of tomorrow was a promise.

A plane, composed in the colour of freedom and the yearning years.

A plane, composed in the colour of freedom and the yearning years. A trailblazer of tendered time,

A plane, composed in the colour of freedom and the yearning years. A trailblazer of tendered time, a longer of loopdeloop-love,

A plane, composed in the colour of freedom and the yearning years. A trailblazer of tendered time, a longer of loopdeloop-love, eternal in evenings as the sky blushed its bouquet of melting hearts.

A cerulean celebration so verdant and vivid

A cerulean celebration so verdant and vivid that the skyscrapers no longer scraped the sky:

A cerulean celebration so verdant and vivid that the skyscrapers no longer scraped the sky: I did.

The starry night unfolded like a blanket,

The starry night unfolded like a blanket, the horizon bowed and bloomed into petals and paths of starshine

The starry night unfolded like a blanket, the horizon bowed and bloomed into petals and paths of starshine like lighthouses longing for me to come home.

It’s all too brief.

It’s all too brief. If galaxies have gears, they will grind to the halt of their rusty cusp of flowers.

It’s all too brief. If galaxies have gears, they will grind to the halt of their rusty cusp of flowers. Their puddles of polka-dot-planets and softly-strewn-stars –

where do they go?

But then, I saw you.

Two planes like paper wrapped in a brushstroke of shooting stars,

Two planes like paper wrapped in a brushstroke of shooting stars, the feeling of a rollercoaster through rainbows.

I thought you saw a mosaic of sunflowers,

I thought you saw a mosaic of sunflowers, drenched in a symphony of storms and snuggles.

I thought you saw a mosaic of sunflowers, drenched in a symphony of storms and snuggles. Constellations of cream,

I thought you saw a mosaic of sunflowers, drenched in a symphony of storms and snuggles. Constellations of cream, milky mysteries like dancing dreams.

I then realized that my spark was not just the sunrise, summer, or stars.

Here, beyond the struggle,

it was me.

(Aside) Hello, Commaful! It's my 100th piece, so yay! :D I wanted to do something special, so I hope that this felt like more than a normal piece, although it didn't live up to my lofty expectations, hehe.

I wanted to do a romance story about two people about to fly, with the narrator reminiscing about memories of doubt and eventual triumph. I scaled that back, for this piece, and decided to do something more internal while still having some sense of storytelling.

I had a smorgasboad of ideas and this piece may reflect that. However, this piece is special, to me, as I drew on many past pieces of mine from my AI story to my space pieces to some of my haikus and earlier poems. I am very proud of the result for its ambition. <3

You may tell me if I succeeded, though, hehe. I also made use of some ideas from a few users for my ballad (that I used here, instead). They include @livingghost, @hurley, @susieq333, @soothrain, @boblong, @poemsaboutlife, @darklyloved, and @vignette.

I didn't use all of your ideas, but I wanted to thank you all, regardless! <3 As for all of you, I want to let you know that I am very happy to be writing more regularly and coming on to read some of your pieces, although I do have some catching up for some of you. :)

I had a rough week but my current struggle seems to be coming to a close. I almost decided to leave Commaful permanently. Many of you, both on and off of Commaful, came to support me, so I really appreciate the kindness of both strangers and friends -- but you are all family. <3

This piece is dedicated to all of you as you create wonderful things from your creativity and the inspiration here is truly wonderful. I have NEVER seen an internet community like Commaful, so you should all feel proud of who you all are.

I am incredibly grateful to know many of you and I hope to know plenty more, either through long-ass comments, collaborations that take months on end, and maybe even my pieces. :) I love you all, and remember that this piece is about all of us. The planes and prairies are but one possibility. <3

So, thank you all for reading, and take the best of care! I look forward to what comes next. :) Write on, Commaful! <3 P.S. I also feel like this piece could use some touchups, so I may come back to it. Let me know what you all think!

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