Like the wind is love The old man, living in a death beckoning hut on top of a hill, never failed to tell a young couple that love was an alluring illusion to break the already frail human hearts. Is just like the wind, soothing and gentle like a warm summer afternoon breeze, then abruptly transforms to a vicious and brutal beast of a tornado. Every couple responded in laughter: The same unpredictable and rebellious air, that always rushed around to only be seen when it suited it? This went around bewildering young couples, blindly leading them into bottomless pits of false assumptions and unfounded conclusions, because even though they laughed in the old mans face for letting age loosen a few screws, reality still laughed in their faces - for one by one their relationships eroded - confirming the insane mans theory. Despite all the commotion caused by the old man, one young couple still believed there was no sane being whod find a comparison medium between the wind and love itself. Wasnt love more precious? What happened to the stars, the most valuable assets of the sky; or the moon, the pearl amidst the diamonds; or the night itself, for it promises to remain even after the passing of death, not the wind. Mzi and Phumla felt they could never impose such injustice as to compare a phenomenon like love to the untamed and aberrant behaviours of the wind. How dare they! Such a unique thing could never be generalised, each couple gave birth to their own love - their own unique breed - new to the face of the Earth and never to be compared with another. They, too, had given birth to their own, birthmarked with the moons glow - which was from all the nights they snuck out to meet near the pond, where the moons reflection in the water lit up their faces for their eyes to feast. It was from these moments that they knew love wasnt something that roamed around blowing skirts up or ripping leaves off trees, it remained in one place, a place a couple chose as its home - like the Heart. The Heart was the home of Mzi and Phumlas love, it was only formed when both of its symmetrical pieces were combined, which each one had and kept close to their heart until the next they met to reassemble the Heart. If either of them was asked, neither would be able to think of anything else to do than to enjoy the raptures of assembling their Heart. As usual, the anticipated sunset stained the western sky to a fiery red-orange shade, Mzi started upon his journey to the next village. On his way, he could already visualise the Heart, resembling all the memories they had together; decorated with the laughter they shared everytime they met; coloured brightly by the plans they had for their future; then filled to the brim with the golden syrup of their love. Jerked back to reality, as he approached their meeting spot, by a figure patched near the pond in the moonlight - it looked like Phumla. As his steps brought him closer, he heard sobbing and by then the shadowy figure had transformed to a young lady. Phulma! Sobbing! But how? This was their moment; their only time of joy - when they met. However, Mzi noted even at her time of despair, the moons glow still reflected of her skin as usual, and she even had the clay bowl she brought along with her everytime for him to sample the supper she prepared for her family. Phumla? You made it! No need to hide your tears, I have already witness the worse part when you were tear-soaking your moon shadow on ny way here. Then it is fair for you to understand the pain Im in, when I say love is really like the wind, a gentle breeze in one moment, a vicious component of a storm in the other. What do you mean? The moon is no longer kind to us my father knows about our meetings and forbids them, and he told me you could keep the bowl to remember me by. Wait! Let me go, for your healths sake. My father is behind that tree and Siphon might be back from herding. A strong gust of wind blew in, simultaneously Mzi and Phumla swayed to the abrupt force, with only a second to stagger and find their misplaced balance, a second - much stronger - gust forcely rushed through. Instinctively, they reached for each other but the second gust seemed to be pulling most of its strength as it bulldozed through. Locked in each others arms, they could see the moons reflection disfigured; the stars hidden by the objects the wind launched up, the night was no longer peaceful. Or better yet, beautiful and the Heart no where to be seen. Please dont let me go. Phumla, that would never happen. The Heart materialised in front of their eyes - the wind at its peak, they see the destruction caused by the wind. After a while, it abated to peace but no everything was at place; the pond was flooded by leaves; the sky was a dark shade of gray, but the Heart was there, with the moons glow as they knew it. Then if love is like the wind , youd know that it only blows over and disperses what it can, leaving behind all that is strong enough to with stand it. {The}CrucibleOne...[>»¥«
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 05:58:04 +0000
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