The Day is Done

To the remnants of history. To those who subject then doubt. To these endless days that fool us with cunning trickery, with treacherous truths that are unloaded boundlessly. Truths that become devious lies in instances unregistered with these snail-paced hearts, these elephant like brains. We are sinking low, sucked in by a spiral. Unintentional submerging of the soul into ice cold water, into clear smoke that covers each day. These must be the days that leave silently, that become unnoticed, that start off with the want but accept the muted fate. This is how easily we have become remnants of history, pieces of no importance, irrelevant footnotes on pages that are soon to vanish from existence. From this is where we must start. And when the day has ended, this is where we must end as well.   

Your story began, goes by way of sorrow, sometimes luck. The lonesome traveller waiting to unload the burden of solitude, to find refuge in the cracks of hearts shut tightly. Hoping to encounter a kind soul, a rising spirit of devotion. You set sail on a raft in the endless desert. The quenching heat, the trying coldness of the night, the scorching sun, the easterly winds blew against your sails. You were ill prepared, unequipped with paper and pen. The stars could not have played a better trick on you and your raft. The sand moved quickly, the heat soon broke you, the blisters halted each effort to send a message of help. Still, your raft moved along. You found clothes to wrap your useless skin in. The pain slowly subsided, the sun became predictable. Rain you waited, rain never came. The wind changed only so often, you learnt how to navigate. They all laughed when you set off without a compass, but the desert needs no compass to sail. The sand is not easy like water, the night sky is not the sea turned upside down. Soon you realised. The dear north pulled you and you could feel the gentle nudging, feel it growing stronger each day. Every so often a mirage gave you false hope, how you cursed the day you had to leave. Seemingly unavoidable, you would rather have chosen a wintery day to skid on the backs of grid like fresh snowflakes. Then you would have known which way the earth moved, where you would find your soul. The summits of terrible cliffs, the paths ventured by beastly creatures and the evergreens to line the way. These you would have known, these you would have found familiar. Out here in the golden desert is where you cannot be anything else but lost. Diligent in your efforts to survive, disciplined in the wait for the dear another.  

The account you gave is accurate, there seems to be no other path. We take each moment as it is given, churn it until it fits slightly, only just, to loosely cover, to hide the blemishes that appear at an alarming pace. If this weary pilgrim is to be given the rest deserving, then the journey must echo the fitting reward. Then you must merit the reward. After years of searching, there are no definites is what you have found. Sands taking you to waters, ice plates sailing you to mountain tops, trunks of rotting trees flying you to tightly hanging constellations have succeeded in showing you the beauty, teaching you the value of the wait. You now understand the fickle nature of the moment, how unstoppably miraculous it can appear. Each day filled your soul with heavy sorrow, each night lifted the weight. Each cloud reached to pull you from the wreckage, each ray of the majestic sun pushed you back onto your raft to continue. Every detail of your journey enriched your spirit, every instance taught you to atone. The meeting of the other is urging you to continue, set off once again. The fear of disappearing, the fear of losing is ushering a new beginning. To secure to be a remnant of this day, you will hurry and find, you will travel and hope. You will scorn and hurt, you will battle solitude and hate. You will guard off evil and embrace fate. You will roam in heat and cold, you will chase rocks and hunt motionless prey. You will welcome strangers, you will forgo all niceties. You will hold out your hand and wait for the stars to guide you to that dear another.