Despair

A yellow fog had come, unbidden, its colour reminiscent of sweet cotton candy. Its tiny droplets soothing his burning skin and hiding from his view two crumbling walls of stone that leaned and threatened his lightly chosen path. Willing numb feet he raised, defiantly, his chin. Outlandish was his need to overcome and to insist on odds, belonging to a road unknown, but, home sweet home for him, the different drummer. He could not see the obstacle. His eyes had focussed on a single tree, majestic, far in the distance and bathed in golden rays. He heard the echo of the bell and felt the universe, its beckoning. Yet in the inner sanctum of his ear the urgency of voices swelled, at last to the crescendo of a dissonance of village choirs, breaking through heavy armour, then to cling and not let go of what his angels had ordained. It was the fork, of course, so dark. A thousand flickers dancing, he knew about the glow worms of a lonely youth, how they had always rung in the night, as fear of darkness was their game, and lure of Heaven's promises, his destiny well within reach. The moon had gone again. Strange and familiar groans, old branches bragging skills to brash, pubescent twigs, convincing owls and possums to choose wisely in their night. Blind as he was no choice would dare and come his way. He hurried on with anxious eyes and legs of sheer uncertainty straight down the silent path until his lungs could only scream, his breath a blazing fire. The sparks of hope had been, in just a blink of desperation, extinguished as they'd gone around the sudden, cruel bend of chosen forest road. And, the collision had to come it snapped his spine in two, cold, bony fingers ripped his heart out of its cavity within, and left a soul behind, dependent on the spirit that each man keeps well inside his own cocoon, once woven with the Heavens' diligence now softly swaying in the winds of fear. And like a fly destined to die great fireworks of chaos could be heard and seen for countless miles. As all seemed lost in time and endless space the clouds made room again, a yellow moon bestowed a different panoramic shine upon the scene of mayhem and despair. As if a heavenly command had come a sudden pulse of cosmic energy transcends and lands within the great tristesse, as countless critters congregate with ease with friend and foe each side by furry side. And birds swoop in from sheer curiosity, the forest comes alive again, in rituals of life essential part of Mother Earth tradition. A holy breath is felt inside and fills his chest with joy, as apathy must yield at once, and, through the pulse of immortality life is renewed, it opens precious petals proudly erect, its hopeful eyes toward the sun, uniting inborn melancholy of the soul with human spirit, all within the heart. The fog has now come back into the forest, but he can clearly see a thousand steps a cotton candy glow, left there, among the needles, illuminated two sets of footprints, side by side. He sees it all, astonished eyes alight, at last he knows who walks with him through valleys of the shadows and of fear.