I Remember Manizales
It was a happy colored land.
Bright blue skies, with rolling clouds of silver and cream, making faces for us to guess at.
Bright green leaves on the long arms of tall slender trees, reaching fingers to the skies.
Yellow fields of flowing grasses, swaying and dancing to tropical rhythms; sprinkled with flowers of pink and yellow, white and violet, crimson and amber. Lakes of mirrored silver, translucent, slightly blue. Sleek gold and green and argent fish, darting in and out of reeds sprouting in their own submerged realms.
Laughter scenting the wind with hints of joy, pure and clear, unencumbered and sincere. Chirping birds floating lazily on warm currents, playing in the sun, gold glinting off Technicolor plumes. Dreams transcending time and space, spinning emotive tendrils catching dreamers here and there; puzzles with mismatched parts, a logic all their own, at least while they were there. Breezes, sweet and gentle, just enough to cool the air.
I remember Manizales and I wish that I was there.
 © Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Ocala, Florida, 1998; all rights reserved