Via Vision

Thoughts flow like a river and here is the place in which the river becomes a waterfall.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Man God

“Behold my power. I am the destroyer of all things good. My greed surpasses the need of my seed that comes after me. My desires of the things of today are greater than the harm it would bring to the things if tomorrow. I stand with the power of the gods in my hands. The green trees that create pests and hordes the vile beasts of the land shall be destroyed with the sharpest ores of the earth and shall be powered with the remains of the dead.

The stench of the beasts are now gone and the annoyance of the insects have finally come to an end. Seats of pondering covers the land, but with the might of the iron powered by the dead the land shall be paved flat. I will bring new life to this desolate place. Solid stones and metal ores shall cover the land. Dark nights shall be a thing of the past and the chirps of forest would pass away. Behold the power of man. Bow down to my power and glory, for even the gods envy me.”

Gradually the poison consumes the man god. Blurring the consequences of his power. The poison slowly kills him and his offspring but as the poison confuse the man god’s mind the process of death is accelerated by his power.

Independence Lies

A tree will fall if it stands alone against the strong winds of a hurricane, but a forest of trees would stand strong against the strongest winds. Community is the key to survival and progress of all living things. The false security of independence leads to the destruction of oneself. Instead of thinking of onself think of the others, for you cannot grasp the beauty of the painting by looking at a single brush stroke among the thousands that make the painting a glory to see.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Thankyou For Your Help

Beams of the morning sunrays cut through the forest foliage like knives, illuminating the leaf littered floor. While lying asleep on the moss-covered roots of the jobacon tree, the morning sunlight on Boic’s face awakes him. Squinting and slowly creeping out of his cuddle area, he stretches and yawns away his sleepiness. After rubbing his eyes, he looks around for Juica. Saying in a soft voice,
“Aaah! Juiy is still asleep.”
With watery eyes he then looks for the stranger. Sluggishly he walks to the area of the stranger’s resting place. Realizing that the stranger was missing, he hastily rushes to Juica’s side and shakes her frantically.
“Juiy! Wake up Juiy.”
“Huh! What’s going on?” as she tries to orient herself from Boic’s shaking.
“He is gone.”
“He? Who is gone?
“The man.”
“Uh! Give me a second Boic.” Juica intoxicated with sleep sluggishly throws the covers to the side and stands up. Yawning away the heaviness of the night she partially regains her awareness.
“He is gone Juiy.”
“It looks like that.” She continues to yawn.
“Juiy, snap out of it.” Boic shouts.
“Hey, what are you yelling at me for?”
“I am trying to wake you up.”
“But I am awake.”
“Okay then, why did I wake you?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
Boic slaps his forehead.
“The stranger we help last night has disappeared.”
The sound of footsteps interrupts the conversation, redirecting the couple’s focus to its source.
“Good morning.” Lajun said as he stares at Boic and Juica with a confuse look on his face.
Boic, with a sigh of relief says, “We thought you left.”
“We? He thought you ran away.”
“I am sorry about that. I awoke early this morning to prepare breakfast. I am very grateful for what you have done and I am in your debt. I am sorry if I caused any unnecessary concern.”
“Don’t worry, Boic is easily excited. My name is Juica, what’s yours?” Boic stares at Juica with piercing eyes.
“My name is Lajun.”
With eyes wide-open Boic says, “So it is you?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You are the one that stole Cryta.”
Lajun quickly drops the sack of food and places his hand on his sword.
With deep concern Lajun ask, “Do you also desire Cryta?”
“You can be at ease Lajun,” Juica softly says with her hands slowly patting the air, “if we desired the sword we would have left you to die and depart with the sword.”
“True. Then, why did you help me and how do you know about Cryta?”
“The legend of Cryta is a known story throughout our village. It is the sword that liberated my people from the hands of Carnesa. After the Great War, the bearer of the sword Jacauy disappeared into the wilderness. Before his death, the sword was hidden in the tomb of Knathon. It was believed that Jacuay died while trying to hide the sword and judging by the injury you incurred its safe to say you also ventured into the tomb.”
“Getting to sword was the easy part, getting pass the demons was the real obstacle. They spawned out of nowhere the moment I removed the sword from the pedestal. Not knowing how to use the sword, I had no other choice but fight off the demons, but in the end I had to run for my for they were to powerful. But how did you know about me?”
“When you disturbed Knathon tomb, the demons began to scour the land in search of the intruder. We over heard a heated conversation between a young girl and an older man in Baluk, about a young man infiltrating the tomb of Knathon and your name was mentioned. While we were on our way to Nui, we heard your cry for help and came to your aid.”
Boic immediately ask, “Why do you want Cryta?”
“Most likely the old man you overheard in Baluk was my father. When I departed on this mission, I heard rumors from the locals that an old man was looking for his son. From the description its sounds like my father. He thinks I am a paranoid and blowing thing out of proportion. My people turn their head in ignorance to the growing power of Mesan, who is nothing but a pawn of the Gorhians. His power is growing and he is slowly gaining more and more control of our lands by bribing our leaders. Mesan has a powerful army and my people do not have the might to retaliate even if they come to their senses. So I searched for the sword that would give me the power to push back the growing empire of Mesan.”
“But you do not know how to use the sword.”
“That is not entirely true, even though I was battered from several battles with the demons I was able to learn a thing or two about the swords ability from the inscription on the hilt. I have yet to use them however. Why is it that the demons haven’t followed me to this location?”
Boic quickly answer, “Knathon tomb is bonded by four stones. These stones are located on at the four cardinal points of the tomb and are evenly spaced apart. Luckily you have moved beyond the barrier of the tomb. I still don’t understand why there are villages within the barrier of Knathon tomb, it baffles me.”
Juica stomach growls and embarrassingly she looks away.
“It seems like someone is hungry.” Lajun begins to laugh, so he picks up the sack of food and walks across to Boic and Juica.
“Lets eat. We can talk while we eat and you all can tell me more about your journey.”
With a slight smile Juica says “That’s sounds like a great idea.”
The trio gathers around and begins to partake of the food while exchanging their stories.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Righteous Witch

I am sick. My vision is blurred and I feel woozy. The witch I call mother is drawing nearer, but this time she brings with her the knife of conviction. Quickly she grabs my hand and slits my wrist. She then begins to laugh histerically and her evil smile and evil eyes angered me. I try to stop the bleeding but her strong hands bound me to the rough and dirty floors. Blood pours out of my wrist like a severed pipe, but the blood is not red but black. Not only is the blood black, it also smells like a corpse left out in the midday sun. Suddenly, the blood stop flowing and the wound rapidly heal.

My vision is clear and I am no longer intoxicated by the naivity of youth. I can now see the things that I could not see as a child. The blindness of my youth departs from me, for the painful cut to my wrist purifies me of the youthful poison. The evil witch I call mother isn't evil at all. Her words of hate weren't words of hate but of wisdom, love and guidance, which cut through my stubborness like a knife. This knife was not the knife of death but of transition and self awareness. Tough love hurts at times but it is the only love that can free us from our lack of understanding. May the one who created all things well bless the holder of the knife which bring forth wisdom,love and guidance with her slashes.

Great is the Grand Mother

Like the rain quenches the thirst of the desert sands, so is the love of my great grand mother that quenches the thirst of my youthful heart. I thank God for time and for years gone by. As a child I was too close to the fire called life to see its beauty. I always felt the warmth but never saw its beautiful oranges that seamlessly mixed with the yellows and reds. As I grew older and as time padded the distance between me and the fire, I am able to see the fire's true beauty. The fire that kept me strong through my youthful years and the fire that showed me love. Greatful am I to the one that made me see the wonders of his love through my aged and beloved great grand mother.

I am an Uncle

“Uncle Boy” she says. For that is my name and I am honored by her call. Bright eyes with pure innocense she stares at me with the smile of holy angels. I am now part of her world.The world in which any uncle would die to be in. Before I was the anonynmous voice in the distance and now I have a name, Uncle Boy.

Its amazing how the respect of a child is so precious to folks that are called adults. We, the adults of this world willingly and selflessly throw away our pride just to be notice by a child. Ashley's acknowledgement of my existence is greater than the respect of the world's most powerful army. No underlying motive and nothing to gain, I officially became her uncle when she uttered the words, Uncle Boy.