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Mindful Intentions
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I entered the room and looked at the two windows standing before me. I step to the first and fields are open but warmth fills my chest, as I gaze deeper into the portrait ahead of me.

It is filled with gorgeous images with sunshine, bulbous white clouds crossing the sky and emergent shapes are pulled from my youthful reminiscences. An abundance of life now arrests my attention with flying, running, and buzzing creatures satisfying the true vision and fullness of life. The scene went on as far as I could fathom. Any thought that crossed my now staggered mind instantaneously found its way to this surreal dreamscape. As if I was god, I was pushing the elements that warmed me, brought joy to such a moment, or was just missing in such a place. Just before I push back from the window, I remember flying a kite on such a day as this. A beautiful red diamond appears in the sky with a silver cord tracing a path back to a boy in a fieldfrom my vantage point I can make out his blue shorts and white shirt with nothing more but serenity in his eyes and a beaming smile to his lips.

I shift to the second window, thinking I would see the same image of the life outside, but I do not. A murky illustration fills the window. At first, the darkness is enveloping and substantial. I cannot see a thing beyond the pane. Nevertheless, as I feel a bitter chill filling my mind, growing like ice crystals wounding me deeper into my essence. I now suffer from lack of emotions, as if the oneness with the slow landscape allows me to feel only its sorrow. Lifeless angles of rock and snow come to sight. Soft shadows become aware and help to hide the life once discovered in this realm. Movement catches my eye and is gone when I refocus my attentions. I cannot move, and my hands reach for and swing open the lock. I know this place; it is my world of depression and comforts, of silence and stillness, which I have lived for so long. As if the landscape more than any other, a dear friend, beckons me to join with it. It needs my warmth and I need itwhy. I stop myself from pushing the window fully open. I can feel the air and frost cascade across my face

Stepping away, I stand before the moments in my mind merging their dichotomous reactions in my soul A dizzying array of my character's folly sends my frame to the floor and I lie still.

So here, I stay, collapsed as a wounded lump on the floor and overwhelmed by emotion, by choices, by life and death, as I wait for the signs only present in my mindful intentions.

Learn more about this author, Sean W. Makiney.
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