The Elder’s Spectacle

“And you?”

“What about me?” replied the old man.

The juvenile continued: “Naturally, your eyes have seen many things but aren’t tired. I would dare say they burn. But with what — or — for what?”

“You are mistaken — my eyes are not what you see.”

“Then, enlighten me, old man. What do I see?”

“You are simply witnessing an unutterable spectacle, an accumulation, of what my eyes have seen. You have yet to see the graces of intentional love. She chose me — every day and every time. You haven’t seen the blood of your own child on your shirt. You haven’t seen the curtains of exhaustion roll over you like death. Have you seen your heroes fall before you? Have you seen the sun in a child’s smile? You see what you do not know, yet. As for the burning, it is the fight to protect this spectacle from the crushing waves life sends. My soul may flicker at times, but it will always burn.”