Swarthy & 'Fro

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Dedication

Dedicated to the Earth. Happy Earth Day.

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Synopsis

A paragraph-poem about a family who is reminiscing about a once alive park they treasured in the past. How did the park die? And will it revive? Or will it stay dead?

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Once, a mother named Flora, a father named Wake, a son named Omen, and a daughter named Fate strolled upon a park to feast their eyes on the Tree of Life in highlife to be filled with hopeful peace and joyous release. They’ve once visited years ago ever since Omen and Fate were children who were on the run while always having fun. Now they’ve all grown up, ready to go to college to let their lives develop. But the family decided to visit the Tree of Life once more before Omen and Fate are finally out their parents’ door. 

Wake battled heart disease due to his past of being a smoker, and as of today, he is still working on becoming better. But despite his condition, he still wanted to revisit this lively place his family once treasured altogether.

But little to their surprise, the park there became bare, vacant, and appeared to be in despair. The sizzling, fizzling sun up above the Tree of Life was supposed to shine like a neon light found within the sparkling starry night. But the Earth’s star was blocked by clouds and caused shadowy shrouds. 

The clouds were supposed to be like ivory dough that was swirled in vanilla cocoa. Instead, the clouds were dingy and gray with signs of the drip-dropping acidic rain that caused crumbling decay. 

The mountains that hid behind the trees were supposed to tower over the family of four to embellish a soul of herculean strength. But the rain has not fallen upon the mountains to create waters in great length. And so, this left the surrounding lands to dry and caused a drought that couldn’t even cry. 

The grasslands once slept beneath the family’s shoes when they meandered upon the Tree of Life’s presence—crunch, crunch, crunch—the grass should have gone, but due to the drought, there was no scenery of greenery to fawn. 

The swooshing-swaying wind once danced upon Wake’s long, thick, black locks that caused his hair to sway in flocks. The gale once swiftly swirled among Flora’s high-puff that reached towards heaven; making even the mountains jealous that spring season. And Omen and Fate had twists in the shade of raven that was garnished in red and blue jewels so their ends can be protected in stylish afro rules. But due to the windy air pollution, the Tree of Life became weak by rainy contamination. 

Wake walked upon the tree, he tried to imagine it to be green and free. But the leaves were frail, and when he touched it—it snapped, crackled, popped, and bailed. It was almost as if the foliage wanted to escape from a human grasp before it was too late. 

Flora walked beside her husband and held a piece of flower to savor in. She tried to picture a bouquet of flowers once underneath the leafage for hours. She thought of how once there was a colorful frond who varied from the aster, azaleas, and beyond. She closed her eyes and believed how these florets can finesse fantasies of daisies that flew upon a breezy field scene filled with tangerine as sweet as nectarine. 

But the fruits such as strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries came in no varieties. The air mixed with the lead that lair; ran up to the clouds like the tortoise and the hare. Then, the clouds that dropped acidic rain caused the plants to lose nutrients in shame. And when it was time to give her children a wild berry, a berry that was cradled in a basket to take home—no longer grown and eventually… never shown.

Fate took a few steps next to a big pond that neighbored the Tree of Life who was in highlife. She reminisced how its crystal blue waters were as valuable to life as much as humans made diamonds valuable for their strife. Fishes such as goldfishes once lived in motion, but now because algae once lived and withered away in portions, they used up all the oxygen for fishes to live in such conditions, and the goldfishes went on moving to that ocean in haven. 

Omen tried to inhale the air and exhale with no fear like he once did when he was a little kid there, but his lungs began to itch, twitch, and dry almost as if the toxins in the air began to multiply and caused his throat to fry. 

Wake let go of the grieved leaves and spoke to his wife who was filled with rife. He coughed a few times and chimed, “What can we do to keep nature alive and once new? Since we’ve been gone and living our daily life, the life here has dried, fried, and died—left to be forgotten and apparently, moved aside.”

Flora let go of a discolored flower and responded to her husband whose tone saddened, “We cannot do this alone. The towns here have abandoned these once lively grounds. If they did not plan to restore what this park was once before, I fear they won’t care for even the dirt here.” 

“I’m sorry dad,” Fate’s tone was simply sad. “I know this place meant not only a lot to us, but here, you wanted to be in our lives to create trust.” 

“Is there any other place y’all want to go? Before we leave off for college tomorrow?” Omen asked his father and mother who were filled with sorrow.

Wake coughed and then his words trailed off, “Actually, I want you guys to go on without me. I’m feeling a little delirious, but I don’t want y’all to feel too serious.” 

Flora’s words seamlessly projected; she didn’t want Wake to feel neglected, “Maybe we should celebrate at home as a family since the park here was abandoned by the community.” 

So the family all agreed and went home to follow Flora’s lead.

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