The Pollen and The River, February 5, 2009
I want to tell you a story this time around. Will see how it goes.
There was a young kid that used to live in the shadow of a river. He did what he could, when he could. Every day on his way to school, he would pass a part in the river where he could see his reflection. Every day he would look down at the water. How it always rippled in the same direction and never stopped guiding the boy to where he was going. He saw all the plants grow around the river and wondered what it would be like to just be a flower for a day. Until one day this young boy of 17 finally sat down by this river of his, and looked at one flower that stood out above the rest. He saw how the bees would land on this flower over all others. The boy lied down on the bed of grass and shared the sun along with his new friend the flower.
He closed his eyes and imagined himself as small piece pollen within his friend the flower. And for one moment, he was at his nirvana. He was in a state of peace that could not wane, much like the river that fed the thirst of him and his flower. As he sat there, nestled in his flower, a bee flew over and landed right on top of him. He then found himself rising faster and faster into the air. He could now fly. This little pollen that was at his peak of happiness was now flying, adding to his joy. As he drifted farther away from his bed with the flower, he saw the world that he was not able to see from the riverbed. He saw the ocean, the mountains and the sky. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sights that this bee was giving to him. He stretched out and soaked in more sun than he ever did by the water. Higher he went, higher the bee flew, and happier the little pollen was. He then felt light, as light as a peddle in his friend the flower. He felt himself starting to fall, but slowly. Slowly he fell back towards the ground back to his home. And on his way down, he never stopped smiling.
Our young boy of 17 woke up then, a daze in his eyes from looking into the sun, his shirt sprinkled with leaves from a nearby tree. He sat up looking around himself, to see if he was still in the same place, and to his immense frustration, he was. He picked up his bag and went on his way, swatting a bee as he left the river behind him.
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