>> Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The waves wash up lapping against the beach and in itself echoing the stories of a country far away. A woman walks looking into the stories but missing to many key points. This is what happens when a person who has lived among mankinds creations tries to see the art of nature. The waves whisper as succinctly as they can but it is lost on her, for she cannot understand. Best she can do is to pick up the seashells and hold it up to her ear, but this too is an illusion, she is hearing her blood pumping and the seashell makes it bounce back to her. She glides along not knowing how dismal her fate is for she is there, and that is enough for her.
Her younger daughter not quite so caught up in the way of the world, sees a deeper way of the world, the one that nature holds fast to. They all whisper of a time and place of fantastic proportions, when people and nature were at peace, but now here in this dreary scene, the tell tale signs of the war are apparent. The smoke seen in the houses lining the beach echo more fervently of a day of reckoning, and a day coming all too soon.
Leaning against a rock a stranger sees the girls eyes open wide at the horror, he quickly recognizes that nature has chosen her to be on there side, just as he is. This after all, he tells himself, is only the beginning. His heart goes out to the woman who looks at her daughter admiringly, for he knows she will be her destruction. He hums to himself the song he heard his grandpa sing to him as a child, “they’ll know more than we’ll know”, ironic he smiles to himself, for here is a living example. The woman of course looking her world in the face, but missing the other world entangling her daughter’s vision., and all this time is molding the girl into a weapon that her mother least expects. Not a violent weapon, but a knowledgeable one.
He slides off of the rock and leaves the beach with a twisted smile. “She will be back, they all are.” Four years later a reconvening is to take place at the beach and the first meeting for those chosen is to take place. As the people gather two stand apart for they are the youngest and closest to the messenger. The waves are roaring white with sea foam like a mad dog. It is time.


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