this is a story of a man

this man was a traveller by nature. he love the wind and the rain and the sun and all things that came and went with them. as it happens, in his travels, the man came to a great crossing. a fork. the path he could follow or the river. he sought a hillside to ponder. upon the hill sat a great rock. it was the most beautiful rock the man had ever seen. it was not precious ore from which this stone's beauty arose. rather the way it had been torn from the very earth and shifted and scarred bestowed it a sublimity unmatched by anything the man had ever witnessed. so awed was he, the man vowed to stay by the stone until... well, until even he didn't know.

the man had never seen such an unmoving object that was so well travelled. he lived by the rock. sat with it and watched the setting world. told it jokes, shared secretes. he would run his fingers over the moss on the rock's soft north side and caress the deep unhealed scars of it's southern. he would lay his back on the rock's warm western face and read long passages from his favorite tomb and some times from his own dairy. those were special times. in return, the rock kept him sheltered well against storm, as a small cavern it provided on it's eastern side. from there the man could wake each day to the river below. it kept him warm with the many game of deer, rabbits and more from the woods. feed well, too.

for many years the man lived with this rock. often other travellers would wander by going each their own way. each would stop and look out from the hill and breathe the rock's beauty before embarking once more. often the man would stare into the eastern sky and watch with tearied eyes the freeness of the stars, of the seasons, of the sun and moon and wind. he would stare down at the restless waters below in curiosity. where did that water go? for where did it come? he would lay a palm on the rock. it needed him and he could not leave it. "someday, someday," he told him self each night.

this story is not yet over. the man still waits, for what? he is unsure.