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| From The Writer's Circle on Facebook |
.....one evening, the torch of fire he always carried, was a little closer to his face. The bright orange glow that lit up his face revealed his true identity. We were stunned at first but then we knew. Even though we did not know what he did, his secret had to be kept to preserve the wonder it. I moved around a little bit because I was getting stiff and several sticks cracked beneath my feet. He looked in my direction with the torch held high and I froze. He did not call out to see if anyone was here. I watched him as he turned around, slowly walking back into the thicket on the wooded island. The torch of fire was disappearing. I think I understand this man better from this encounter than all the previous ones combined. Sometimes, you need a safe place where no one is going to make fun of you for being different. Sometimes, you need to live or visit a place where you are surrounded by God's creation where you can look at water, forests, mountains, trees and animals. Sometimes, when you want to look at the world but not be in the world, you light a torch at the same time in the early evening and take a peek through the eyes of those looking back at you. I think that when his inner tank is full and when his spirit is at peace, he's able to return to what he does - whatever that may be.
