女儿喜欢画画写小说。但她很少让人看她的画和小说，她说写写画画只为自己高兴。一个偶然的机会，我看到计算机里她小说的稿子，看了一下觉得满有意思的。把其中的几段放在这里，有时间的时候自赏一下。
After the course of ten dreadfully extended minutes (for in death time wafts by in a slower fashion), we—now partly comrades—disclosed that it was in a poem Brie had written in the 5th grade which regarded the tasks Brie yearned to complete before her ending siesta in this spacious universe. This might be portrayed as a tad whimsical (I guess in conduct it is) but I want to share a poem deriving from one of the expeditions we made to realize the objective of executing Brie’s last wishes…
[B]Upon terrain of vibrant Earth
We sit by warmth of each heart’s hearth
Opportunistic wind blows by
Even so our coals stay dry
A fellow claimed her wish to fly
To drift, not waver, graze the sky
And when dark clouds—sobriety obscure
We will obtain sanctity in the future
So evergreen its kingdoms are
Its ruptures solely masks its scar
But forget that we have come so far
To light the torch of fantasy
To toss a discuss of hypocrisy
To let the heavens rule and be
The savior of our deity [/B]
I will always remember that mid-summer day when all of us, standing proof that pilfered companionship can be attained after assortments of monstrous events, stood solemnly at the roof of some basic, low construction and whispered—in sheer synchronization—our profligate collage of prayers to the valiant heroes (for within every person is the ability to structure him or herself into a gallant individual) above. It was a superbly beneficial and healing moment. On to you, Dessa…:
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Needless to say these two demonstrations at the fault of Brie were touching—just as her words always were and continually are in our dreams. Second to last the troupe of us scoured Brie’s quarters for touchable instigates of her consideration for other people and devotion to even the everyday thrills of life. We found an assortment of differential items—from diminutive artificial snow globes to models of her most glorifying work. It proved a laborious task but it was well worth the tremendous effort owing to the expressions of virtuous joy we later found on the faces of individuals we had decided to give them to. Ms. Mayor, Brie’s third grade teacher, burst into tears whilst Brie’s neighbor, Adam (the “boy next door”) furnished us six best peers with the most authentic smile possible. When the sun smoldered in grounding for its imminent farewell dive to the depths of Earth, Angelica, Dessa, Toni, Shylu, Brie and I chose to make amends to our analyses of the world at seaside; here, we were enabled to release a bit more of the negative energy stored within us…
[B]Screaming at the ocean’s mouth
Our voices echo in fermata
The glee within them is illuminated,
As our injuries meet restitution
In this new era we are full of ambition
Resplendent merit in trust
But as one part of us leaves—sometimes we must,
Show the world our disgust.[/B]
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The multihued leaves outside fluttered dynamically; trees bowed their heads; roses retracted their thorns; the luscious sun deepened in tint and commenced to descend. Brie’s striking hair (what was left of it) spilled onto the back of one of Ellie’s mahogany table-chairs similar to a rampant waterfall as she gradually cocked her magnificent complexion back. I discerned the love and devotion in her, in all of us, and, for the first time, conveyed it without apprehension.
“We love you, Brie; enough to let you go and keep you alive in memories and hate you and miss you and feel abandoned without you and stay angry for a long time and finally accept it in exhaustion…enough to say goodbye.”
At sunset Brie rose into a place the brilliance of the sun obscured; yet a place far more bright and dazzling than this sun could ever be. As our eyes filled, our hearts filled—filled with the total enchantments of this Earth, which Brie consented for us to see. And even though the sun set—shedding darkness upon this corner of the world—our spirits lit, lit because Brie had, in leaving, shown us the honey in the world.
[B]Song:
Ever since I was a little girl
My mother used to ask me questions
Of angel’s query; of ghost’s lament
Keep your heart safe, your passion sole:
Why do lush stay green all year?
Why does love escape your grasp?
There are some cries you never hear,
Why don’t miracles ever last?
Lying in rest, in youthful grace
I spoke the reply of a royal’s request
Of dragon’s phrase, the lessons of dwarves:
A heart will in time fortify
What exists not isn’t heard
Revelations run through life.
Afterwards her eyes would glass
For she had given me the chance
To show her a worthy testament
To prove that I knew my weaving to her
To open her foreboding exit;
These were the very last words
Which touched her lips
Her voice now is screaming loud
But her memory muffled, invalid
[I]Chorus One:
Although the world’s indifferent
Leaves still fall and dirt is rich
As well oceans undulate
Dreams and wishes cease to be
The sun reaches for me no more
While rain still falls freely
Seashells brightly gleam at dusk’s shore
Nothing’s so unfamiliar…
Chorus Two:
Our vivacity is nature’s exhale
Heart not but an insight
Those alone are remembered; none too frail they are
Miracles are outcomes of a worthy fight
Those were the ecstasies her heart desired.[/I]
Take a breath,
Close your eyes,
Free yourself.
For what—
Count the stars,
Erase your fears,
And what’s left is who you are right now.
[I]Chorus Three:
So let me ask: today, tomorrow, who will we be then?
New sight, new thoughts, new air which brushes our skin[/I]
New fire, familiar cold
Your life will again unfold
What you keep secret,
Begins to lift
What you want to forget
Becomes a gift
[I]Chorus Four:
I can hear your whispers in the trees
I can’t see you but you can see me[/I]
I glimpse your every footprint in the sand
It is the stars which help me understand
That you are here somewhere
—You are in the depths of the air
Which I breathe
Which I heed
As a weapon of my past
Running in the red leaves
Under the crystals
The arrows are coming,
To defend my wings
My peaceful sanctity
Behind us somewhere, you stand surreal and fair
You are gone; the ripples have taken you to your garden.
[I]Chorus Five:
Again you are singing, but not for me
For my soul which yearns to be free
Now I know with the leaves in my hand
The miracles I’m encompassed in
Voices in musical strand
Heart beating fast again; again
Chorus One and Two…
Chorus Three, Four and Five
Chorus Three[/I]
Needless to say—he asked again:
Today, tomorrow, who will we be then?
But now I know the answer:
A shadow of who we’ve been. [/B]
