Nest in the Meadow

The light colors enveloped her in a sweet embrace. She accepted it in bliss, for the dark shadows had haunted her nightmares. But, in one soft moment, the light chased the terrors away in a burst of melody. Birds sang outside her window, each warning others of their territory. Brushing aside the gossamer silk, she padded outside, the door opening effortlessly.

She was not sure what she wanted to see. Clouds perhaps? Maybe some birds flying in a magical twirling in the skies. Instead, she was greeted with a meadow of flowers. A grove of trees surrounded the meadow. A robin’s nest lay in one of the trees.

It was as if the hatching came quickly and in short blurs of motion. A tiny bird hatched right beneath her robin’s egg blue eyes, mirroring the bright feeling of the hatching.

She had expected to see a robin, but no. She was surprised, pleasantly so, with a dark blue hued bird that opened its mouth, head rising from the remains of the egg. The surrounding birds fell silent in watching their kin birth.

It sang a song that brought tears to her eyes. The melody was of tears and crying, but also sweet rejoicing and the hope that rose from the opening of buds. It combined any feeling and every feeling in that one moment of silence.

It sang her to sleep.

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