Journey of a Life

Her muscles were sore. Her body was tired and weary from the long days journey she had already traveled. The mountain path was rocky and narrow, but her clothing was awash in blood, so she treaded on in resolute determination. She had wandered since sunrise like a vessel set adrift upon the sea with no anchor to hold her steadfast, and no captain to guide her way. But as the sun set low against the horizon the path had become clear. “Out of the woods, across the river, and to the top of the mountain to see him one last time.” These words played on her heart over and over again, urging her on ward. They made her oblivious of the razor edged stones that pierced the thin soles of her sandals and of the thorns that tore at her sides as she brushed past them. As well she knew nothing of the faint trail of her own blood that marked her journey. Her eyes and heart were fixed and as the last golden rays of sunlight died on the earth, she reached her destination.
She saw him there dressed in a white suit and seated on a stone beneath a tree whose boughs bent graciously offing ripe, red fruit. He was looking out across all the lands and she could see that her felt pride for all he had. There were others there, but they seamed to be sleeping peacefully within themselves and were of no importance to her. For she and he were the only two being of the world, and soon there would be only one.
He spoke to her at first without looking, and he could not see the change in her, “Come, my child,” he said, “ and eat of the food which I bear for you, the food that has grown from the seed I planted in my own soil, for you.
“No,” she replied with impavid strength in her voice. “ I won’t any longer.”
Her words struck his hollow body like needles, piercing his skin, staining his beauty. He turned slowly, fearful of what he might see, and now, as he looked upon her, anger filled his dark, worn face, but it was soon covered with concern. He rose and walked quickly toward her. “Why,” he asked. “Why, my child, have you betrayed me? I have shown you only the purest love.”
“No,” she shouted again shaking her head wildly. “I want no more of your lies. I have seen Truth.”
Her words beat into him again but this time as daggers, slicing deeper into his perfect flesh. He grew in rage until he towered above her. Then in fury he lashed out striking her in the temple, driving her from the cliff of his mountain. With this he shrank back into himself and stood there for a while staring into her earthly grave of darkness below, realizing what he had done. He had at first felt triumph but now only true sorrow, this he had not yet known.
“Why, my child?” he cried into the abyss. “For I offered you the world and you chose instead a grain of sand?”
“No,” came her reply once more, not rising from the darkness beneath him but thundering from the heavens above. “You offered me The World and I chose instead The Universe.”
With this he fell to his belly as a serpent, and there he remained, permanently fastened to the world he had ruled with such pleasure. The last life was lost to him.