top of page
Search
Writer's pictureTattoo Magazine

(SPRING 2021) A Worldly Overture | Megan Rudberg

Updated: Jan 20, 2022

Do you see that?

A flock of birds has just taken off from the canopy,

Leaves rustling,

Feathers beating together,

A squawk echoing out across the sky.


Can you feel the boulders beneath your feet,

Feel the spray of the waterfall as it crashes into the river below us?

The falls have caught the light,

There’s a rainbow in the mist.


Hear the symphony drowning in the thundering beat of the water,

Feel the mugginess clinging to your skin.

Breathe in air that feels jelly,

Full bodied, yet soft and smooth.


See the green,

So much green.

Green is spread out, swaying in the breeze,

To the movement of the animals.


Cast your eyes to the sky.

It looks moody, like it could shift at any moment,

Shivering with excited energy.


I know that you could stay here all day,

But we’ve got so many places to explore.


Ahhh, here’s, a favorite of mine.

Do you see the jagged teeth of those mountains?

They watch over everything,

Standing imposingly against the gray sky which is pregnant with clouds.

They contrast with the greenery,

Trees scattered across the mountain’s face like freckles.


Can you smell the pine and dirt?

Feel the pinecones crunch beneath your feet?

Step out into the clearing, admire the mountain’s base.

Do you see the lake’s teal surface rippling in the breeze?


Hear the cry of an eagle piercing through the air,

Bouncing back between the canyons,

Soaring like the creature itself.


Do you feel a chill settle onto your arms, your scalp?

Let it make you feel small,

Yet so lucky to be here.


Let’s move on.


Oh, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this one.

You see, over there?

The glaciers are shifting across the sea.

Do hear them crackling,

Singing,

Exploding?


There is so much white,

So many blues,

Everything like diamonds.


Are you a bit cold?

Your fingertips are blue,

I think that’s normal.

Probably.


It’s beginning to snow,

You see?

Flakes are falling from the sky like little confettis,

Tiny, spinning crystals.


As you stand on the glacier,

Do you smell the ocean?

It’s briny,

But everything smells frozen.


Oh, do you hear that?

Over there!

A whale’s tail is slapping the ocean’s surface,

See the way the water bows down to its majesty,

To the whale’s elegant, slow movements.


Okay, I suppose we can leave now.


Here, let’s warm you up a bit.

Look into the distance there.

You see the way that the baked earth splits?

It’s like the earth has torn the seam of its leather pants,

It’s become so brittle and dry.


The sun is setting over there,

But can you feel the way that the heat hovers still?

See it shimmering over your toes?

I know that there’s a lot of dust,

Shield your eyes.

But look, there’s a snake!

Slithering between the cacti and into its den,

Moving out of the way as a tiny, gritty twister sweeps across the ground.


Isn’t it fascinating that something can survive here?

Oh, right, you’re extremely surprised because you can barely breathe this stagnant air.

And you’ve got sand in your throat.


Right, then, let’s move on to our final destination.

There’s a lot of grass here,

Can you feel it tickling your ankles?


Look at all of those daisies,

Tipping their heads towards the sun,

Drinking it all in.

You should, too.


Can you feel the moisture in the dirt,

Cooling your feet,

And the warmth from the sunshine on your arms?


The sky, up above,

Look how blue it is!

The clouds laze across it like fluffy little sheep.

Can’t you imagine real sheep prancing through this field?


I think I might just leave you here,

You look so calm.


Just

Stay here for a few moments.


You can leave when you’re ready.


6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Bottles | Emma Baker

The candlelight shone off the colored glass of the bottles that lined the shelves, flickering and illuminating the old, faded labels....

The Guardian | Emma Baker

He’s waited for such a very long time. For as far back as he can remember, he’s known of his task—to protect his king even if it costs...

Breathe | Claire Beaumont

I feel the cusp of unformed emotions bubbling up in my throat. They threaten to spill out at inopportune moments. A throwaway phrase, a...

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page