The Gate

He sits quietly in his corner without a word or a sound. Like a fisher man reeling in the years with a bait of compassion. Drawing you closer to an enchanted wonderland full of mystical monsters, love and its daughters. The stillness is almost something you can feel, whispering, something you can’t understand. In the week of the spirit deep calls unto deep. You take another glance at him hoping to capture a momentary understanding of his world but it eludes you. His journey, it seems, is one he must journey alone. Understanding, but misunderstood a curse he carries so well.

Childlike, not in his sense or sensibilities but in his view of the world. He takes matador strides, as if every day is to be conquered. Viewing himself a knight, a king, a nobleman, a defender of justice yet it is doubtful whether he owns his own pen. His, is a world of fiction, a world of dreams. He can scarcely contain his imagination, it is an unkempt garden that bears the wildest fruits. A stream of passion where all men’s desires abound. A hot spring amidst the snow, a well in the dessert. He draws you like honey draws bees and gives you a hint of the world not as is, but perhaps, as it should be. A Never-Neverland railroad to carry you to the unseen. Welcome to organized chaos.

His understanding is amplified, his feeling is mystified and his emotions are an alliance of seas. Steer clear, the light house bids or risk being tossed to the rocks. His ship sails without a rudder, his crew without a port, his destination is further than Columbus could have ever dreamed. A celestial dance with the stars awaits as he sails towards the gates of heaven. Few know him, lesser will know him still. For this, the bards will sing and not be heard the poets will write and be heeded not. For his is the realm of the lost Kingdom and his job description; seafarer of sorrows.

Now you see him, now you don’t. He’s no company for judgemental eyes, has no shelter for myopic minds. He eschews all fellowships bound by perishable things. He prefers to lurk among tolerance, compassion, truthfulness and love. A man of God he does not claim to be, he knows his own vanities all too well, but he seeks him in his modest ways. That he may speak to him and be understood…. and perhaps take a sip from his stream.