The Cave

The cave is dark, but a light from within shines. From a distance you can see this cave. From a distance you can almost believe it exists.



From within its chest, I toss dried and dying leaves into the fire. Columns of smoke drift out of the mouth of the creature that is the cave, and I stare into the engulfing mass of hunger that is a fire. I watch the boiling of my soup.



The moon hangs on a thread in the sky, and it sways between the clouds and the stars.



There is a noise from outside the cave, and I look through my blindness towards the outward world. I see shadows shift uneasily in the distance. Without fright or worry I call out.



“Hey there! Come on in, I’ve got plenty of room.”  The cave swallowed the soul, and the man entered my new dominion.



He was an older man, with age reflected in his sagging skin. His throat sucked at his breathe, and he whispered a thank you. He looked cold, he looked fragile.



“Would you like some soup?” His old and white beard bobbed a thank you, and as he moved closer to the fire I could see the crust cradled in the wrinkles of his eyes. Spots of age wore deep all over his face. He accepted the bowl of soup gratefully and sipped quietly.



“What brings you out here?” He smiled a weary grin, and coughed at the heat of the soup. The light from the fire revealed his feet. Bandaged in what looked like several socks and band aids, they seemed to have been hastily applied to stop the apparent bleeding that had taken place when he must have stepped on a sharp rock, or put too much stress on blisters. He shuffled aimlessly.



I picked up another bowl and poured myself some soup.  We sat in silence.



With time I developed some fear of unrevealed intentions from the man. With time I developed a companionship and appreciation for this man. Company on long travels, for however long, is always a blessing. I tested my voice in a cough, and I started to speak. I told the man of my journey and of my goal. I told him my dreams, my fears, and my hopes. He listened above the slurping of soup. He listened.



I found peace with the older man. I reached into my back pack and I removed a pair of shoes. They were my back up in case I ruined my current pair. I reached across the fire, and with an amount of silence I handed the man the shoes.



He grabbed for the shoes, and met my eyes. There was sorrow, pain, suffering, depression, and sickness. There was a hopeless stare, and a hollow echo throughout the cave. I deliberated running. We made no movement for what seemed hours, decades. Until finally I felt a tug on the other end, and with what little muscles he had, he retrieved the gift.



He put the shoes on, and he smiled a broken grin. He stood with a creak and a squeak.



With a life I had not noticed before, he moved to the lower lip of the cave. He turned back, mirrored by the hanging moon and moved his tongue.



What he said to me arrived in symbols, and clicks of the tongue. He spoke a thousand languages at once, and whistled a soft hum. He said all man ever wanted to hear. And he spoke of hope and peace and belonging. He spoke about escape and relief, of freedom and slavery. He never mentioned death, and only of life, never of birth but only of bury.



After he spoke all and everything, he left the entrance of this creature.



The cave spat him back into the wilderness, and he vanished from sight.



The moon stopped to chat within the clouds, and formed a Cyclops in the sky.



I put the fire out, and the smoke carried its death rattle. I gathered my things and picked up my pack. I stood with new life and knowledge and left the beast.



To the Cyclops in the sky, it must have looked like I was fleeing a monster. It must have looked like I was being chased.



I tried not to follow the old foot print impressions, but my curiosity got the better of me.



I sought the man, but at the end of the trail, an empty pair of shoes sat.



There were no other prints, no sign that the shoes had even been removed.



But here they sat.                                                                                                        Alone, with no owner.



I picked up my old shoes, and placed them in my bag. And in the dying moonlight and rising sun, I continued onwards into the world.



The cave grinned at me from a distance. It watched my retreating moon lit shadow.



The cave is dark, and if you look hard enough, if you really stare and strain your eyes, maybe for a second, you can convince yourself that it actually exists.