Its been nearly a month now…almost a month of late nights, whirlwind kisses, poetry and baring of souls. The more you speak, the clarity of the words subside…its no longer abt words but more of the feeling. **Ok ok the words are still very important.
Once, there was the wind and a stone. The stone was part of a larger rock that resided out of the wind’s embrace. Occasionally the stone’s presence caught his eye, but one day something changed. The wind was beckoned and so it blew itself, at everyone at first but den it died down to a breeze. A soft breeze that seemed to be observing the stone, flowing around and occasionally drifting back to other places.
Over some time, the stone fell off. The wind was shocked and stunned. It asked itself if it had done anything to cause that to happen. As it was suppose to be omnipresent and had obviously been blowing at the stone, was the falling off its doing? Worried and troubled , it embraced the stone.
“How did you fall?”, confused he asked.
“Did you not notice the cracks that had formed before?”, the stone replied.
The wind looked back at the rock in surprise and true enough upon further observation and the pointing out of the cracks by the stone…the wind understood. It felt sorry for the stone but was somehow drawn towards it…it decided to embrace the stone.
The more it blew and huffed and puffed : the stone itself did not move.It blew long and true and slowly it shook.Amazed by the stone’s movements and dexterity, it started to learn about the stone. The stone was happy to share and gladly told its story. For many days, the wind did not blow for many days and the heat crept in. People were neglected and they asked for the wind. But it was not to be cajoled and it twirled and spun constantly around the stone. Out of the sudden, the wind just stopped and asked itself – what abt the others? Its conscience felt that it had to be fair, for he belonged to everyone and not just one sole entity.
As he spared his presence to the great many others, all he remembered was the stone. He spun and he blew and everyone seem appeased…but the heat had got to them and it wouldn’t leave. His yearning for the stone had grown and it was beginning to consume him whole. So he decided : the stone it is and the stone it shall be. Ferociously, it spun and twisted, rushing towards the stone. In its haste and desire,it spun out of control and it split into 3 gusts of wind. Each was part of the whole yet uniquely different – the 1st gust was conscious and it was cold, it had a mind of fairness and upheld it so. The second was quiet and rarely showed, as quickly it came, it would go. The 3rd gust itself was a maniac – at times it would be a breeze and tickle and tease,other times it got bold and it tore at everything wif no holds. They came apart and joined again…till they formed a little typhoon tearing straight past everything and at the stone.
The 1st gust tried to hold back, for this manifestation was more of the 3rd’s wild intention and for fear of the stone, it tried to come across as calm. But the second wind quietly spun and rode on as part of the typhoon – not judging not wielding. The 3rd gust spun on and on yearning and wanting for the stone’s presence. As it approached the stone, a totally unexpected transformation took place.
It was thought and expected by the 3 gusts of wind that the stone would either be blown away or be picked up by the wind, but little did they expect what was to come. The stone itself looked and parted, itself had turned to sand. Each every grain,each every particle had split and in its new form….it became one with the wind.
In shock and yet happy realization, the winds slowed, losing their speed. The stone, now in form of sand, reminded it : “I’m willing to spin with you but remember if u stop or slow…its actually me that you will lose hold of.” The winds nodded and for weeks they spun, understanding, talking and interacting with each other.
For the longest time they had enjoyed each other’s presence, but all winds don’t blow forever, nor do sand not spill and scatter. They realise they had to make a decision, to remain together when the typhoon finishes it course or to return to wind and stone. The wind did not want to stop but admitted the decision was inevitable. It had learned much about the stone and it deep down it felt the stone knew its soul. The stone however gave it much worry, for all this while, the rock had been crying and yearning for its lost piece.
The winds understood and set its pace;
To the stone it spoke of union and embrace;
Will you have me? To love and to hone?
We do not know – we’re not the stone.
as it is within; it is without. 