Coyote66
05-15-2005, 09:58 PM
The earth breaks before us.
Stone is wrenched apart.
Trees topple.
A howling wind awakens. Leaves part before it’s infinitesimal rage. Any living thing bends at the ferocity of it.
And yet we two stand - undaunted.
The howling wind with rage of infinitesimally only flutters our cloaks and our hair sway in the wind.
With the land fracturing around us we stand ready.
Plains, forests, mountains, swaps and seas disintegrate.
We stand ready.
Ready to fight.
Not for right or wrong, virtue or malice, God or Satan, land and country, hearth and home.
We fight as equals, as comrades, as friends.
We fight this fight to live.
For this is happiness.
Not money. Not control. Not mastery, dominance, command, ascendancy or supremacy.
For happiness is the thrill.
The thrill of emotion.
The thrill of life.
The thrill of living.
The thrill of being alive.
Her hair plays in the wind as she smiles at me.
I smile back, relaxed and at peace with the failing world.
We draw swords. Steel rings against steel creating that musical note.
Our swords are flashes, barely noticeable.
Our feet move in a pattern that only battle can create.
In a sense we dance.
With flurries and parries we twirl about one another.
As sword meets sword we test each other’s strength and find nothing wanting.
She smiles.
Her blade skates down mine to stop at the hilt.
With a flick of her wrist my sword goes spiralling into the air to embed itself into the ground.
As I bow she laughs aloud.
I retrieve my blade and we both walk to the cliff to look out at the land below.
As we look at the fractured land below we feel sorry for those who have created it. For they live trapped, wanting power, money and control.
As we walk away I reflect at how easy it is to reach out and obtain enjoyment from life. All I have to do is accept.
Stone is wrenched apart.
Trees topple.
A howling wind awakens. Leaves part before it’s infinitesimal rage. Any living thing bends at the ferocity of it.
And yet we two stand - undaunted.
The howling wind with rage of infinitesimally only flutters our cloaks and our hair sway in the wind.
With the land fracturing around us we stand ready.
Plains, forests, mountains, swaps and seas disintegrate.
We stand ready.
Ready to fight.
Not for right or wrong, virtue or malice, God or Satan, land and country, hearth and home.
We fight as equals, as comrades, as friends.
We fight this fight to live.
For this is happiness.
Not money. Not control. Not mastery, dominance, command, ascendancy or supremacy.
For happiness is the thrill.
The thrill of emotion.
The thrill of life.
The thrill of living.
The thrill of being alive.
Her hair plays in the wind as she smiles at me.
I smile back, relaxed and at peace with the failing world.
We draw swords. Steel rings against steel creating that musical note.
Our swords are flashes, barely noticeable.
Our feet move in a pattern that only battle can create.
In a sense we dance.
With flurries and parries we twirl about one another.
As sword meets sword we test each other’s strength and find nothing wanting.
She smiles.
Her blade skates down mine to stop at the hilt.
With a flick of her wrist my sword goes spiralling into the air to embed itself into the ground.
As I bow she laughs aloud.
I retrieve my blade and we both walk to the cliff to look out at the land below.
As we look at the fractured land below we feel sorry for those who have created it. For they live trapped, wanting power, money and control.
As we walk away I reflect at how easy it is to reach out and obtain enjoyment from life. All I have to do is accept.