Neat and Tidy
The office is neat and tidy.
Daily scribbling still occurs.
Emails still flow; even if not as abundantly as in the past.
But the faith in this activity had meant something. A sacred effort building towards worthwhile; or at least justification for the life hours it consumed—that faith has evaporated.
The premise arrived on incremental observations of missed meaning. Yes, the pale reminder of a once abundant, eager-thrill to take up the ritual.
It mattered in an obscure almost oblique fashion; like describing a common knowledge “What does a banana taste like?”
um, banana?
I did the requisite soul searching to rediscover my diminished passion. Had I failed to notice skepticism morphing into ordinary cynicism? Or did the redundancy whisper to an ever waning weariness of effort?
“what are you doing?”
Without a vision of pay-off, am I building sand castles?
In my heartfelt wishful dreaming the tale would redeem itself with merit.
I wonder
I returned to several decades' cache of stories, essays and poems to retrieve what might be a redemptive example of pure dedication to an ideal. I’ve arrived at the same place the crazy cat lady experiences when realizing she can no longer account, by name, all of her lovelies.
A blinding flash of good fortune; serendipity arrives, I found the ancient piece. As a closure to a stream of thought.
Such a promise
They both walked along different roads in life.
One day, fate brought their paths closer together. At first they were unaware of one another, but soon they were walking side by side. Before too long, they strolled hand in hand; joyful for the discovered company.
Along the way they hit a few obstacles, as they navigated several obscured bends relying on the other. Sometimes their courses took different directions. Somehow they were able to occasionally make their paths cross so they could take a few more steps hand in hand.
Along the journey a phantom edifice arose upon the horizon.
Through the mist they could make out an outline of a mighty fortress castle.
It appeared to be the destination they both sought; a sanctuary where they could love absent of fear or hesitation. They imagined it as a bright and warm place that would harbor them from the rest of the world.
It looked like a strong and solid structure, despite its colossal size, they humorously contented it might have difficulty holding all the love they longed to place within it.
It would be the perfect place to house their perfect love.
So then they continued their journey, making their way toward that castle. Often it seemed to get closer. At other times it appeared as if it were further away. They endured more obstacles and more turns. They enjoyed some pleasurable side trips and tarried in meadows along the way. As the miles and the years rolled by, they progressed onward, never losing sight of the castle and the promises it possessed.
One day, during a moment of reflection, he wondered if they would ever reach the castle to live happily ever after? Bending down to tighten the lace of his boot, he was visited by a quandary: was there such a place where love would serve exclusively? Where change would be shackled? Perhaps living in such a place was more about fear and need for protection? While he entertained such ponderings she had quickened her gait provoked by her desperate need to arrive. To him, it didn't matter any longer if they never reached the mystic castle on the horizon. The true magic of their companionship sprang from the journey, not the destination. Yet, by then her haste had prodded her beyond his welcoming hand as the distance between them began to increase. She no longer took notice of his voice calling to her, as his calls blended into the background sounds where her attention no longer found promise.