Flash fiction 55 1/14/11

Someone mentioned music and how it transports us- (I believe it was Brian
at WaystationOne/ Onestop Poetry)and it reminded me about the clarity and unity
of the experience from childhood.I did write 99.9% of this story yesterday-
then ran out of time and quiet to finish...

Music flowing
over a generous blue rug
a young child
spinning, dipping
to pick the flowers
under her feet,
following all
the twisting paths,                 
inward, outward
a heart scaling mountains
sailing rough seas
through seasons
for years;
until painting,
writing
drew her away;
now she wonders if lines
could re-twine
into a melody someday.