Free Writing with Tanya: the May 18th prompt

Story Portal prompt, a line from the poem Anchorage by Joy Harjo:

"We keep on breathing, walking, but softer now,

the clouds whirling in the air above us."

Use this as your opening line and free write for 12 minutes. See where it takes you.

"We keep on breathing, walking, but softer now,

the clouds whirling in the air above us."

We sense beings around us and do not want to wake them.  It is not danger we breathe so much as slight annoyance.  Rather than apologize for our presence, we show respect for theirs.  We are human, but I sense they are not.  As the clouds lift, I see we walk among a grove of trees whose branches intermingle--tall , tall--and made taller by the crest of the hill on which we rise, ever walking to a destination we are unsure of.  We call it safety, but I know it is by common consent East.  We walk East to join others in mind of spirit in the Mecca of sunrise, a place holy to all faiths.  The barriers have come down.  
          I slow as we near the top.  My breath is labored, but I will make it if I release my body to move at its own pace, as if it were a horse I trusted my life to.  I feel encouragement whisper through the lower leaves and the higher needles.  I feel the carpet of moss and pine ends add a bit of spring to my steps.  Maybe we will find safety somewhere ahead, if  even the trees are helping us.  They link our mother, Earth, with everything else, they are the signs and flags of her health.  Over these past months of travel, their anger has changed to pity and annoyance, so this encouragement is like the fresh breeze that rises with the clouds.  It feels my lungs with joy.  
          Now on the top, I burst into song:  "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something right."   
          The words are from The Sound of Music, the moment when Maria accepts her relationship with Captain Von Trap, just before they start their family's trek away from Danger.  We must have done something right, something the trees approve of, a sign from our mother.  "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something right."  I don't remember the rest of the words.  
          People around me are grinning.  The feeling of respect doesn't leave because I have burst the silence with sound.  No balloon pops.  The mood rises gently with the clouds and I feel a collective sigh of relief.  It is not that we have been holding our breath, but we have been so very ashamed of being human that feeling acceptance and joy is a weight off us.  Here at the hill top, we look down the way dense with trees.  The path is still unclear, but we have renewed energy for moving into the unknown.

We keep on breathing, walking, more confident now, lightly as clouds rising, lightly as burdens fall.

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  © 2020 Susan L. Chast