A lone figure stands silhouetted against a sky that has shone for millennia over a land battered by history. The wind sweeps through her hair and whispers :
"What is it to be caressed by my breath?" To this she answers:
"As the past swirls around me and serves to draw me into its siren song, so do you fill my sails that bear me to distant future shores. Some come sooner, and others later, only distance and your strength will tell the tale."
The wind laughs in delight, and sends her silken gown rippling, and her hair frolicking. Hearing this the Earth below becomes questionable and quakes its unsureity. To her the Earth addresses this :
"And what am I that lies below? To be trodden underfoot and to fulfil your whims?"
Thinking nothing of this the answer comes almost before the question has ended :
"You, mother, are that from whence I came and grow. It is to you that someday that I shall return so that I may come to grow once again."
Hearing this, the Earth grows quiet and content. At the sight of this, the sun burns brightly, searing its question dryly :
"And I, the one who burns light into the day? Am I obsolete in your day?"
Once again, the answer is doubtless and quick to spring :
"You, my warmth - you who light my day, and illuminate my way. It is you who shows me that which I set aside, and that which sets me aside. I open my eyes to you, and seek your signs and countenance when first I wake. Before I seek my mother, I long for you. For what is life but the measure of your passage? Surely I should wither in your absence, never again to rise."
Content, the sun begins to set, and brings for the coolness of the moon to soothe the heat.
Listening all the while, basking in her nature's illumination, she who is she asks her question :
"And I - who am I to you : Your resurrection, spirit and self? What am I in this scheme of self?"
To this the reply is slow to come, and laboured at best.
"You, who changes your mask with the passage of the sun, and breathes against the wind. You, whose weight the earth bears. What are you to me?"
"You are that which promises that tomorrow will forever be the same as this day gone by, and ensures that the day gone by changes with the passage of seasons. You are the inevitability of the unpredictable, and the instability of structure."
"You, my friend, are the promise of me."
- Patryn68
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