The man once grew tired of waiting,
Of sitting back and watching others spinning
Their tales of mist and gold dust,
While slowly, his own heart and mind turned to rust.
“Why do you believe so easily?” he asked his friend.
“Why’re you filled with a fervor to give and lend?
I only wish I could believe too …
That like you I could find so much to say and do.”
“But I’ve seen the world outside,
A rough and dangerous place with nowhere to hide.
Filled with dark alleys and shady corners,
A wild and vivid tapestry of grey areas,
Where people turn and kill in the street,
Filled with anger and rage and heat.
If you are gone today, would you even be missed?
And look – where are the miracles we were promised?”
His friend listened to what the man had to say,
Then took his hand and said with laughter both merry and gay,
“Use your heart to see the truth, and not your eyes,
Think carefully before you strip away all outer artifice.
Only then, with the world before you in all its glory,
Can you realize that there is still so much to see.
For how can you say there are no miracles any longer,
When they still exist, in every form and shape and color?”
“Look around you, dear friend, at the beauty of the sky,
Or marvel at the wonder of the wind’s soft sigh.
Now and then, stop to admire the birds in their trees,
Their gracefulness of flight in the gentle breeze.
A miracle lies dormant within every stone and pebble,
How million of years was needed, just to make this bit of rubble.
For maybe then, in this way,
You will understand all I have to say.”
“Bend down and scoop a handful of sand from the shore,
Let the golden grains trickle from your fingers to the floor.
Or stand upright and gaze at the crashing blue-green waves,
Foaming madly as the ocean seems to rant and rave.
Look at a candle in the velvet depth of night,
See how the flame flickers and wavers but never disappears outright,
And how each drop of wax trickles down the side before it freezes
Into eternity and for one moment both fantasy and reality are blurred.”
“Appreciate the solitude within the quiet green wood,
The feeling of rest in the air both peaceful and good.
Listen to the tinkling of the brook winding its way through,
Sparkling, crystal waters an inviting clear blue.
Look at field after field of pure, swaying gold,
Shining in the sun with a brilliance shy and bold.
Rolling hills, dappled with sunlight yet scattered with shadow,
Cast against a greyish sky hanging cloudy and low.”
“In this way, only then can you understand,
All of the world, so beautiful and grand.
Maybe then you can see that a child’s lost cry,
Is as much of a wonder as the sun’s daily good-bye.
And when you do, well, my friend,
I guess you’ll have finally grasped and reached the end.”
Those were the words that his friend said,
And with it the man saw his last doubts fade.
“I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for me,”
He said. “For clearing my eyes and letting me see,
Beyond the darkness and into the light …
I feel as if I’ve just gained a second sight.
If at any time I can ever help you,
Anything you require me to say or do,
And don’t worry if it’s too much to bear,
For no matter what I’ll be there.”
His friend smiled one last time, saying,
“It is enough for me, bringing
The truth to yet another man’s heart.
I need no reward, and now we must part.
For within this world there are many like you,
People whose awakenings should be due.
It is my duty, to spread what I know,
To make people happy, for the seeds of love I sow.”
As the man watched him walk away,
He felt more content than he had any other day.
For he knew that right before his eyes,
There had been a miracle, which wiped away all the lies.
Written in Sept 1996 by Jane Pek