Free

She found it ironic how much she resonated with Kazantzakis right now. Rays of the white sun scolded her, firing down thousands of invisible needles that pierced through her out-of-season Floridian fabric.

The dual substance of every human being.

She breathed normalcy and sang of anomaly.

She was flesh and she was spirit.

Justified and yet not perfect.

She wished that she would be the change she wished to see in this world.

In the flesh, she was crippled to be free. She was too young in every art she practised to transcend anything or anyone. She dismissed mathematical prowess herself. Artistic propensity outran her a long ago. Literary genius escaped her presently as she realised that spiritual transcendence overwhelmed them all. Freedom in Yesu Christo -- that was the Transcendence which freed the individual in her entirety, which enveloped a soul in a true sense of relief. But total freedom of the soul seemed distant and afar looking out from the slowly decaying chunk of flesh. There were brief moments of truths and glimpses of the eternal and swift flashes of brilliance, yes, but she couldn't grasp it for an extended period of time.

She loathed immediacy of her nature and groaned. Trees on the sidewalk, perfectly aligned to fit the urban plannings, seem to groaned with her. The silent wind echoed her sentiments. Imprisoned within the old earth, they too eagerly awaited the revelation of the sons of God when everything would be made new.

A red skylark mocked her as it passed above her head. It boasted its freedom, a wild bundle of lush scarlet dazzling in the sun. The bird soared aloft the spring wind as if it was a mere. The sentient within her envied the ignorant flush of a bird.

Immanence.

Shifting her vision, she gazed at the hill of her nose and smirked at the fact that she was talking about herself in third person although it was physically impossible to observe herself objectively.

Transcendence.

There was only one human being who achieved this art perfectly whilst still confined within the flesh.

How she too wished to be like him.

Humility.

Slowly but surely, green buds were beginning to show on the formerly dead branches.

Life.