a spanish symphony

hola... so this is a piece i wrote for a creative writing competition here in spain. and you might ask, "why is it not written in spanish evan?" and i respond with, "well... the only thing comparable to my wonderful way with spanish words is probably the broken cursive of a mixed up and possibly blind spanish first grader." "oh, i see," you respond. "well do you now... thanks for rubbing it in." so english it is... i decided to give it a shot and write a story inspired by some of the people i've been spending time with lately. it's my first try at writing something for a contest like this so... who knows... and i think i got a bit trigger happy with the alliteration... but the interesting thing is i wasn't really trying to season it... however, the pepper cap might have popped off for a prolonged moment... and maybe the salt's too. anyway... here's a take on friends and the spanish language.  

The Germans grace the living room. Their presence swells and enchants every nook of a comfortable apartment. Pidgins nip and twerp out a window open wide. A Basque breeze blows. The winds bring a Spanish conversation. Americans join the banter. For these people within, this second language is still yet loved and cherished and spoken with care. An array of ascents forms a melody sung by all. Among the words emerges a sound, pure in pitch and projection.

In perfect delivery and with flawless clarity, a native’s voice resounds. Its’ intonation unifies the already increasing chants. A symphony surfaces. The cultural orchestra twirls and spills and emerges from a bond that is Spain. The many stand in unity and in confidence they declare their allegiance to this glorious country. This land beckons and entices. The faces transform. The interactions and the community enlighten these lingual musicians.

The soft sounds linger, but wait, they escape through cracks forming in the walls. These mute observers stand tall as witnesses to such a momentous joy. Yet, the structures cannot contain the anthem. The tune presses outward. Through near and distant flats flows the sweet cornucopia of sound. Into the air the music dances, it sings. On the wings of a bird it propels past weathered rooftops and distant plazas. Ears perk as the pleasantries find those meandering along the harbor. Calm footsteps add a transforming beat. Along side these musical discoverers, waves crash. Now, the masterful voices gain momentum. Into a strengthening chorus they rise. Ripples fly out to sea where Spaniards row, oh they glide. With rising energy, the voices fill a flapping sail. In response, the skipper steers onward farther and farther into the blue. In the distance with flashes of lightening and crashes of thunder, the playful sky announces its’ approval. These cymbals signify a composed climax. A waving maestro, the wind howls in response.

Still, the coastline beckons once more. In a fantastic display and with grand speed, the opus plays in the wake of white-capped water tumbling onward. It rises and falls and pushes forward. The sun appears through ominous clouds with rays so radiant. A warm solo of strings descends from the heavens. Tenderly, the brilliance calms the masterpiece. It quiets and begins a lazy return. It wanders the streets. Trees softly ruffle and soon it greets its’ creators once more through the welcoming window not yet closed. The voices now settle to a gentle murmur. Warm in the people’s presence, the room provides a resting place for the refrain. With a whisper, they follow it to a final note.

Yet, the symphony shall not disappear. It simmers and steeps in the hearts of these Spanish orators. With a bond formed and a suture stitched, Spain and her people, natives and adopted alike, will live on forever.