Wednesday, March 21, 2007


he stood motionless in the field, staring blankly into the sky.

gatherings of birds flew by him, chirping, soaring, dancing in the air, among the clouds that slowly floated along.

He stood, and he stared in silence. Dawn turns to dusk, and dusk turns to dawn. Over and over again, the routine repeats.

Day after day, the grass on his feet grew tall. From his ankles to his shin to his knees. He couldn't move ... not with the dense undergrowth accumulating around.

Born with legs to run, and wings to soar, yet every movement sends a sharp prick into him. Occasionally, he endures the pain and takes a few steps around. Most of the time, however ... he stood rooted.

Above him, the birds still soared ... dancing merrily with worries hidden from him. He wonders if they are mocking his immobility, and constantly tries to shrug that thought away. He bit his tongue, and curses his imagination. He still misses the worriless times when he soared together with the birds. Now, there seem to be an ever-widening gap between them, as the birds flew higher and further away from the ground.

He makes friends with some other creatures around him ... and takes comfort in their pressence. The owl is always there, and so is the mongoose. He can't see the fish, but his murmuring voices are often heard from deep beneath the ocean, although the sound takes a long time to reach the surface. He doesn't talk much to the bear, but knows that he will be there for him ... A dove has also landed on his shoulder from the skies, a company which he truely enjoys.

He believes if he stands long enough, the undergrowth beneath will grow a massive height. Saplings to trees, reaching towards the limitless skies, and the roots extending to vast lands.

Then, he can finally make his climb towards the heavens, higher than any bird has ever flown, further than any man has ever known.

But for now, he stood.