The Man

so i found something i wrote when i was 16ish…decided to post it…

There once lived a man who begot four sons and a daughter. He was a man of great strength and courage and in his land; he was honoured for his brevity. He soon became a leader and was respected by his people, as he was just and fair.

During the spring of his life, he was taught about the greatness of life and the All Mighty. He was exposed to the concepts of the world, he was taught right from wrong. He learnt to make decisions and thereafter live by them. He learnt of kindness, love and beauty. He learnt appreciation of the God given things. He grew to become intellectually puissant and thereby learning about worldly and godly matters. He learnt from his mistakes and carried with him, in his heart, the lessons. As the years progressed, he grew up to become a young man unlike any other. When the youth would engage in childish acts, he would read and learn. He possessed fervour for life, for learning about and understanding life. He blossomed from a young bud into a youthful man.

It was not long after his twenty third birthday, while drawing inspiration from the rising sun, that he was mesmerised by the sight of a woman walking barefoot along the shoreline, her hair loose and dancing with the breeze. Her movements were gentle and subtle and complimented the peacefulness of that perfect moment. Such natural beauty, had he never seen before. This, he knew, would be the greatest source of his inspiration. On that day, he moved with a new found grace, he had been enveloped by a deep content and a sense of reassurance. He had adopted a new vision of life, love and the world. He no longer treaded upon the earth; he now glided with passion, with belonging, with purpose.

After that first sighting of the woman, he had many a time imagined a conversation with her. His opportunity arose a few months after later. It was a late summer Sunday afternoon, when he had decided to paint the garden of little church that overlooked the point which married the ocean and the mountain. As he laid out his tools for painting, swinging on the wooden swing in the corner of the garden was the woman he longed to see again. He just sat there for a few minutes, just watching her. She wore a long white dress, a sun hat and draped along her shoulders was a pink shawl.

The lady sensing a presence, turned around to see the stranger watching her intently, she smiled. The stranger smiled back, and began to approach her. He greeted her and told her that he was Miguel, a painter from Spain. She told him that her name was Maria, the daughter of a well-known merchant named Paulo De Silva. They began talking about many different things. Miguel was intrigued by the intricate beauty of Maria. While she spoke, he realised that she was fair and had a dimple on either side of her cheek, her face was lightly sprinkled with freckles, and her hair was a sun-kissed brown.

The memory of their fist meeting will always remain precious, and even today, two and twenty years later, he is reminded of the morning of the sun rise. Miguel married Maria three months after their meeting. Although they did not possess much worldly wealth, they lived a wholesome life. During the course of time, they were blessed with four beautiful and healthy children. Today, Miguel felt a sense of sadness. His butterfly was about to take flight. Today, his daughter of nineteen years, Sarah, would get married. As he paces nervously in a small room of the church, he realises that life doesn’t get much sweeter than this. There are certain moments in life, which change us forever. This lesson of letting go Miguel and Maria must now learn. That afternoon after the wedding, Miguel and Maria decided to walk along the shoreline.

As the sun slowly fell across the horizon, Miguel held Maria close to him as they walked. He felt her sorrow, and shared in her pain, he understood her sweet-sadness and loved her soul.