Thursday, September 27, 2012


One day, long ago, a boy, shy and scared, walked in his world.  And in his world, it was gray.  The light would not penetrate the fog, through the trees.  In his forest, he lived a solitary life, hidden from the world.  He could not let them see, not let them in.  He had hooded eyes, a hooded soul.  It was easier this way.

This boy struggled toward the thing that made him whole and in this found if he struck the earth with his fist or his foot, he felt whole.  This boy threw his arms into the air and by so doing covered his real face from the world, and the world said, "What a fine boy this shall be, he walks with greatness when he strikes the earth." So he learned to strike it more.

This boy became very good at striking the earth and they came to marvel at his prowess.  He was not the best but he was very good.  His hooded eyes betrayed his insides.  He was seen for his beauty.  He seemed what he was not.  He seemed as if solid and pure and to be trusted.  But he felt unsteady.  He knew that underneath the hood lay much melted ice.  He knew that he was unformed and he did not trust his ability to run and leap, and to strike the earth.  His beloved held his hand, and stood with him.  But, surely he had to find new stones.  He had to continue to strike new places.

As was with the boy, so did the man begin to show only the hood to the world, and to his beloved.  He then would thump and strike when no one was looking.  And he grew another face.  He had to put this one in a jar when he wanted to seem ok, in the light, not living in the gray.  He knew in his heart, he was living always in the gray.  No one else knew.  He found the underlings who would live in the gray with him, as he struck the ground in a bad way and fed this grayness anew.

Many years did pass and one day this boy who had grown to a man arose from his bed of briars.  He arose from this nest of fools that he had created and he ripped open his chest and found a rotting thing there.  He raised his fist to the heavens and said "No More."  But many moons has come to be.

In his thoughtless journey through life he had lived a life that left many bodies along the way.  You cannot wear two faces without committing great harm, you must be true to one only.  You have to have a heart that is only to one, your beloved.  You must cleave to home.  He learns too late that he has lived the life of a fool.  That the boy who lived in gray had a choice as a man to live in the light, and now he wants the light.  But, what shall he do with this second face?

He wants to bathe in the waters of forgiveness and new life.  He desires to look upward and move forward to the place that he should always have been.  But what of the bodies?  How can he clean up where he has struck the earth?  His beloved stands before him, sobbing, with a torn heart.  She stands before him, with a broken back, bleeding and bent.  On her pillow, are tears of blood.  She never knew.

Once there was a boy, shy and scared who became a man, insincere and selfish.  He killed those who loved him most and now he wants it all.  How will this end.

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