Once, there was a fisherman who was dissatisfied with his wife because she was always complaining and frowning. The fisherman had no friends, for he never went to the market at the village square. His wife was the one who sold the fish he caught. So he poured out his misery when he went out on the waters to do his fishing. When that made him tired, he would go silent and that’s when the fish would come. For when he complained, the noise frightened the fish, but when he was silent, they would come near and see his lures, and his lures were quite enticing.
We bowed to our grandfather, trying to be solemn through our eagerness. He smiled and then he began.
“There is something living in the forest.
It is neither good nor evil.
There is something lurking in the forest.
It is neither human nor animal.
There is something dying in the forest.
He was called to save it.
She was called to free it.
Neither ever returned.”
On the canvas of the world, all we who inhabit it have been painted by the hand and the skill of some great and unseen painter. Our forms are sketched, our colors chosen, and even a bit of our talents and favors are swirled into our beings. While the painter is busy marking the subtle and the transparent differences between us, there is another who is busy filling us with the elements that are the same between us. The great alchemist mixes the proper balance of feeling and thought for every person born.
It is said that just before a child is born, he is given every gift a person can possess in life. But those gifts attract the attention of evil and greedy beings, who always steal them away one by one. Every child manages to grasp hold of at least one gift so tightly that it cannot be stolen before the child is born.
It lives in the dust. It lives in the remnants.
They say the city that sits on the horizon at sunset is nothing but cosmic dust. I say otherwise. I’ve been there. For some reason I left. I can’t remember the reason. I can’t remember anything about it. I seek answer. I have to return. So last night, or maybe it was five days ago, I set out to find it. I’m on the right path, one of many I think, each of them hidden and easy to fall from.