Week One-Post 2-By Abbi Wharton

Yeah well I broke...Might have to change the once weekly thing, we'll see, inspiration in never ever consistent...dedicated to the brave men and women serving us.

Soldier Come Home

White crosses dot the rolling green field thickly; way too many for any closure sought out here. Each cross bears a name, each cross a sacrifice. For each sacrifice mourning. Each mourning a family, a service, a flag, a gun firing as a final farewell to the wooden box buried in the red brown earth.

Another cross, another name, another sacrifice…

Honorable, brave, and courageous are they, cut short is their life. The life taken on a foreign soil, buried deep within their own ground, the very same they protected.

Cruel was the end but peace found for them. Terror reigning where they worked, fear breathing in every footstep, still valiantly they continued.

The only thing they needed, the only reason to do it was out of the sheer loyalty, love, passion of their home, and a battered flag. Now they return, knowing or not.

The soldier has come home…one way or another.

Week one- Dancer by Abbi Wharton

Dancer

The music starts and I cannot stop myself. My feet move of their own accord. My body sways, my arms float.

Half of the mind remains rational and screams to stop yet it is soon disconnected from the rest of my body as the music takes over.
Goodbye rationality!

My Elysian lives on. The music creates a throbbing down to every pore of my being. Not in pain, but in liberty and happiness.

The time must be passing but I know it not. My feet may be sore but I could not tell you if they were. As long as the music reverberates through my ears, my heaven on earth stays.

When I dance, the world is ok.