The Place I Call
My Own
by Daniel Piranio Sinto
The rolling grass hills.
The endless blue sky.
The crystal clear water.
The forests full of life.
The fruitiest trees around.
The starry nights.
The sunny days.
The tallest mountains.
The sweetest streams.
The everlasting peace.
The purest souls.
The endless pounding of my heart as I raced along the mountainside on
my Condor. Its golden wings glimmering in the morning sun.
I spotted a little brook and directed the gentle beast towards it. When I landed, I
took a drink of water, the water sweet like candy in my mouth. Then I found refuge from
the sun under a tree and took a nap. And I dreamed like I have never dreamt before...
I dreamt of a land far away; a place with war; a place where the sky was black from
pollution. A land where trees were chopped down by the dozens. Where animals died by the
hundreds because of lack of habitat and food, because of pollution and hunting.
A place where hate and greed took over Love and Trust. Where starvation killed those
who could not afford food; where thousands of people died of disease. A power-ridden world
where people sent out other people to kill. Why? For territory.
I woke up with a start. I looked up and saw that the sun was setting. I mounted my
golden Condor and rode off into the sunset.
What a strange dream I had, I thought! What if this world really existed? I laughed at
myself as if I had just told a joke.
What a funny thing if this place still existed...
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