Jon

The Visitor

Monday, August 6, 2007 10:38:09 AM

The Visitor

The evening falls slowly, warmly, and I melt into it.
The sounds of the far off temple bells wash over me like a soothing blanket.
Nearer, the steps of strangers can be heard, rushing to take the last ferry,
or perhaps to get home a little earlier,
or to enjoy a walk together along the moonlit shore.
I take a different path which leads to a heavy door where light is shining dimly through heavy rough curtains. The cottage is shrouded in softly murmuring leaves which are tinted golden by the moon and silver by the river’s mist.
My footsteps crush the fallen leaves, intruding upon the gloomy solitude.
I raise my hand to knock upon the door and pause.
I hear your steps within, rustling about like a hermit who never needs a visitor.
Why do you live alone, out here, far from home and family?
What will I see in your eyes, when you open the door?

Image from http://artfiles.art.com

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Comments

AzureTimm # Monday, August 6, 2007 2:12:57 PM

Why, man, are your essays so fascinating?
I guess it has your heart in it, ain't it?
By the way, is the man in the picture Jesus? I've always been imagining him like that..
Regards, a boy prefer this appearance than the one in Louvre, Timm.
(hey, I've really been in Louvre!)

Hiteshahitesha # Tuesday, August 7, 2007 8:50:09 AM

Jon may I please take this a step further?

I cant help but seem to want to write a response to this.. would you please delete this comment if it is remotely offending this space??

When I was a little girl, my grandma used to read out fairy-tales to me. About Princes and Princesses and happily ever afters.

I grew up in a cold world, and alomst every emotion in me dried up in the heat of cynicism around me. But my dreams, which I concealed from the critical eyes, were mine to keep, and I clung on to them with every bit of my being.

When I could bear the scorn no more, I ran away. I left everybody and everything behind. The misunderstandings and the 'if-onlys', every bit of them, I deserted at the doorstep I had fleed from.

The only thing I carried with me was my fairy-tale dream. I spend day after day, locked up here, in this room I imagine to be my tower, dreaming that some Prince will presently come along and whisk me away to happiness. Of course, I chid myself, it is but a dream. But it keeps me company in my loneliness and sees to it that I am happy.

I thought I heard foorsteps. But who would come to see me?

I wait, but hear no knock. My heart beats with anxiety, not fear. I wonder if this could be a prince? I dont want to believe, but still I do. Unable to contain my curiosity, I walk to the door, hesitating before it. Should I really open this door?

Jonchinajon # Tuesday, August 7, 2007 11:56:34 AM

Hitesha

Your words are so touching. You are in such sweet harmony with me.

If I was a young man, long ago, and far away from this world, I would wish to be a prince, and, riding through the day and into the evening, I would push my handsome steed to the limit, run to your door, and knock softly, knowing that you were waiting on the other side.

But...

I will just keep typing (churning!) out these words that you inspire. Thanks for such warm motivation.

;-D

Hiteshahitesha # Tuesday, August 7, 2007 12:07:35 PM

I thought it was evident by now that it is you who inspire me to believe enough in my thoughts to pen them down!

Thank you Jon!

AzureTimm # Tuesday, August 7, 2007 1:07:13 PM

...太有才了:) awesome.. Why you lot can produce so elegant words? Do you have a dictionary or something installed in your head?...
Regards, a boy admiring your works, Timm.

Hiteshahitesha # Tuesday, August 7, 2007 1:15:39 PM

I think we use the same words in different patterns,Timm. Its like life.. while you see night I see day! But we still live in the same world!