April 29, 2004
english 2
A �Lord Of The Flies� passage rewritten by Rebecca Simonsen
I turned away from the little-uns and followed a path into the jungle. I did not Know or care where it took me. After what seemed like an hour I was closed in by jungle like a warm blanket of comfort. There were pale flowers covering the trees and up to their sheets far above me. Birds sang loudly to their chicks while bugs hummed in tune. It was dark and the air was heavy. Creepers hung their vines like thousands of arms reaching, grasping, suffocating me, and joining me in their sacred rituals of untold stories of age. The Earth welcomed me hugging at my feet. Each contact I had with the ground and vines shot a tingling feeling from my feet to the tops of the canopy.
As I walked into the rays of the sun, I felt like I was being kissed by the heavens. Creepers woven together in a giant mat to one side of an open space in the jungle, little plants thrived from a rock that slept under their spell. The bushes let off an aroma of beauty; the fresh scent glazed my nose. Another corner held a great tree of wisdom in utter silence of the adolescent youth about it still held by its children flaunting red and yellow sprays up and through their hair. They looked alive, starring at me with kindness.
I paused and looked back to see if I was alone in my safe and secret home away. I moved almost furtively and bent down worming my way to the center of the mat. The creepers enclosed me from the rest of the island. I felt like I was in a little cabin screened off from the rest of the opened space by a few leaves. Like at home so many times, I would enjoy doing this.
I squatted, parted the leaves and peered in to the clearing. A pair of butterflies danced in an everlasting song provided by the roof of the canopy. I held my breath and listened to the rhythm of the island. As I watched Evening cast her shadow in longing ness to touch the light, and the rhythm and crying of the jungle faded, The Sea refused to stop playing. Its beautiful melody hummed and crashed in tune to my heart.
The color washed away like blood from the world and died. I let the screen fall into place as the candle buds stirred. Green sepals drew back letting the white rose tips touch the Air. Sun light no longer existed in the dark jungle creatures guided by the candles now fully bloomed white, found their way home to sleep. The aroma spilled out in a delicate process slowly possessing the island. I Simon am now as home as possible.