Fallen victim to fiction.

The first rays of sunlight to poke holes through the blinds awoke the man sleeping peacefully. Invisible beams struck the mirror hanging on the olive-green wall and darkness was shattered by an orgy of colors throughout this man and his dwelling place. He opened his eyes and allowed the sun rays to wake him without seeking refuge under his covers. Instead he pondered things which crept into his dreams that night and wondered if reality had suddenly fallen victim to fiction and things written in poetry books could ever come true. When he managed to drag his legs to the floor he gazed at the image which stood before him in the mirror. This bag of dust, this traveling skeleton of flesh and bone looked deep to find the meaning of this mirage, this alternate life where he had been taken, where he had been delivered to another time, another paradise. A life which few know and others hope for. A life in which can only be seen from mountain tops where eagles soar and God resides.

He turns to face the day with resolve. He takes the grain and remembers the salt and reminds himself karma will sometimes reward people moments of pure happiness. He stands a little taller and a bit proud. He stands as a man trying to find sure footing amid rocky territories. He lifts his face and remembers the reason why he must be courageous, why he must be bold, why he must take on the onslaught of uncertainty and come out on wings like the eagle hovering over the trail before him. The path is steep and the going tough, but he chose and now must keep following it towards whatever the moon brings after the sun has removed its warmth from earth, and disappears into nothingness…

A quest undefined.

Once upon a moment a dream entered the heart of a man to embark on a quest. A journey in which the end was not yet recognized nor foreseen, but all together leaving him wanting for this road yet traveled, for this dream yet realized. As years turned leaf over leaf and winter to spring, this man of solitude, this bag of dust pressed forward never forgetting the night in which this vision of pilgrimage took place nor the surging rush of intoxicating adrenaline as he thought of the majesty of absolute freedom to roam the country. Many would call it foolishness, but it will be known as a testament to a life determined to right wrongs and slay dragons invisible to the eye, but perpetually keeping the feet of mankind on unstable ground. This man unwilling to give in to naysayers and hiss fitters looks upon the morning light for signs from above to guide his way through paths of uncertainty and shadows of doubt which trace the walkway with mists of unrecognized choices. A fork divides his road and a direction must be made. One path to epiphany and one to everyday normalness the likes of which have been played one hundred times over in his existence. A choice must be made to follow the heart or the mundane, the actions of many brave souls or be counted among the mortals who cowered in the face of adventure. He weighs the options and the scales tip towards the blue openness of heaven and the multitude who dared to explore it. He prays to be counted worthy of such a conquest, but past failure has chained him. He glides his eyes towards earth and steps forward, breaking the interlocking pieces of steel one link at a time with one foot finding ground among thorns and the other among winds of something much bigger than anyone ever assumed a man like this could ever reach…