The Revelation

A carload of city teenagers, out joyriding,
enjoying summer’s freedom, killing the hot
part of this afternoon randomly traversing
country roads, taking in the sights – fields of
corn standing green and tall, ready for picking,
fields of they’re not sure what – soybeans perhaps,
passing green field after green field, the air heavy
with the smell of fertile soil and insecticide, then
suddenly topping a small hill, coming to a low
meadow filled with a lawn of red clover, red as far
as the eye can see. Gently swaying in the hot breeze,
the red undulates hypnotically. “What’s that?”
There in the midst of this red ocean stands a solitary
white flowering plant, towering above the clover,
its white blossoms gleaming in the sunlight.
It draws their attention and curiosity, for next to this
white beacon stands a placard. “Now why would
anyone plant one white flower in the middle of a field
of clover? Someone needs to go check out that sign.”
A girl, making her way through the blood red clover,
arrives at the white flowers and the placard. She pauses,
struck by the sheer beauty surrounding her – cerulean
sky dotted with cotton ball clouds, yellow and blue butterflies
bouncing among the clover. She reads the placard:
“Live your life with honesty and integrity, fill your heart
with kindness and charity for all mankind, and you shall
stand out among men as this white flower does among clover.”
The girl reads, then re-reads the message. She walks slowly back,
returning to her friends. “Well, did it explain the one white flower?”
“No. It didn’t explain nuthin’. There was just a lot of religious-type
bs written on it.” The teenagers drive away, loudly wondering
where’s the nearest place they could wrangle some beer.

Harry Edward Gilleland      08.13.02    printer friendly