The Spirit

    In the beginning, there was only One. One guardian . . . One creator. One existence . . . One entity. One being who foresaw all things. The Being had no face or physical feature. It had no gender or name. The Being had always been there, like a shadow that follows behind. It was always alone, as if to have a companion would have stopped time permanently.
    This made the Being witsful, longing for something similar to Itself. The Being wanted something to talk to, something to tell all Its words. It wanted something who would speak to It and who It would be happy to listen to. Consequently, the Being decided to create a familiar spirit. To do that, It began to whisper in the air. The air It spoke into began to form into a beautiful Spirit. Like the Being, the spirit had no face or figure . . . no name or gender. To see this Spirit gladden the Being's soul.
    Overtime, The Being and the Spirit found a way to become each other's solace. Everyday the Being spoke to the Spirit, and the Spirit began to grow. And in return, the Spirit embraced the Being with every word the Being uttered. On days they laughed on end, the Spirit would tickle the Being as if to remind It that it was good to be happy and and one must enjoy life. On days that the Being felt vexed and annoyed, the Spirit would rock the Being, as a mother rocks her child, to remind the Being that It would always be there.
    Like air to breathe and rhythm to dance, the Spirit became a necessity for the Being. The Being adored the Spirit like an insect's lust for light. The Being felt that it should give the Spirit a gift, the one thing most desired. The Being would give the Spirit immortality and with that a name. The Being knew all things will eventually pass and cease to exist, all things good and bad, including Itself. The Being believed that the Spirit was too good to die and should forever remain. So the Being said to the Spirit on Its last day it would grant the Spirit a chance to choose a name and to forever remain.
    Many centuries past and the Being began to create more and more things . . . the trees, the water, the land, and the inhabitants. When It saw that there was nothing else to be done, It fell gravely ill. The Being realized Its end had come and he remembered It's promise, so the Being called the Spirit. The Being turned to the Spirit and asked what named It wanted. The Spirit thought very hard and finally responded, " I would like the name Wind."