Today he stood alone to gaze at a waterfall. It was beautiful to see such a wonder as this; nature so expressive in simplicity. If only she was there to see this with him. The scenery around the waterfall seemed to move backward and fade so that this outpouring of water can have a voice.
He would listen and gaze with an intent to understand what message that voice would say to him. His eyes traced the waterfall to it's beginning. There were two pools that would fill with what seemed to be the purest of water. As these pools would rise they would form two streams that ran side by side, as if they were having a conversation. When the streams converged, there was a surge of water that was powerful, intense, and breathtaking.
As strong as this surge was, it was unusually non-destructive, almost cleansing to the landscape. The surge, so fierce, was uniquely very quiet. That's when he heard the waterfall speaking these words:
"I am natures messenger who travels from the depths. To gaze at my pools is to gaze at an unspeakable happiness, also to understand the expression of sorrows. My streams are the voice of the truth to all those who see. My surge is the companion to emotions whatever they may be."
He watched as the water would fell, seemingly to no destination. The scenery was coming back into view as the waterfall finished it's message. There was a familiarity about this place. He has been here before. The pools, the streams, the surge, and the reason for being here were the same.
If only you were here to see this with me. Today I stood to gaze at a waterfall because I could not turn away from my reflection, in the mirror, as I cried.
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1 comment:
This offers a lot for week 11--a prose poem converting into a fairy tale converting into diary. The he turning to I....
And despite all the different shifts and tricks, it all hangs together which is a trick I can't explain but it's there.
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