He Sang of the Sun

 

The young man raced through the alleys of the city. Dusk was fast approaching, yet he knew he was still late. He looked at clock on the city hall, and knew he would chided for coming home at such an hour, so he scurried to the crumbing fountain, under the likeness of an aged martyr and surrendered himself to sleep. Within his dreams, he gazed at the stars. they aligned perfectly like glistening jewels in a celestial chorus and called him by name. "Gaze at your world, my son", the sky sang to him, and with the earthly chorus to his side, he began to see his world shifting.

 Tottering cars that bled exhaust, moved through a valley where a sign on a hillside called all to come and dream. In a tweed coat and cap, a bit of tobacco in his pack, a world of wonder in his mind, he smiled at his fortunes and gazed like explorer at a new land. Signs proclaimed his name, though a name much shorter then his own,and he walked into the grand theater, where he gazed on that which was himself. He looked at his guises, the one after the other. A noble count, a dashing cad, a beloved toreador, a lone adventurer traversing the seas,an amorous Arab in a golden headdress, and ancient moor in the hills of Spain. Virility, whimsy, coquetry all had come to be seen. Flaxen haired girls in humble towns gazed at him in longing. Woman stirring supper in a humble kitchen reclaimed a shard of memory and glanced at the picture that bore his eyes, reclaiming an innocence that had been tier own. Yet within his singular heart, burned the soul of a gardener, an artist, a dreamer-the finest of dancers. He flinched and saw the world become smaller, but his heart grew greater.

The lights moved. Thousands of people came to sing in his name. Flowers flashed forward like confetti, the glistening pools of earth and time froze shut and he looked upon the world that was his own and marveled at it's splendor. He had wanted for nothing but the sun, for it held a special place in is heart. He had found it, and it loomed above him and reclaimed the grace that was within his soul. It could not be contained,not by the image, not by the words of the people and not by the passing of time. The light shifted. It was nighttime. The boy awoke once more. It had been short rest.

He crept back into his home, opening slowly the wooden door,and crawled into his bed. As he drifted back to Nod, he gazed again at the world beyond. Beyond the sea, beyond the rocks. The voice spoke once again. "you will dream, you will know, you will dance". A final image appeared before him. A horse ascended from the lights and was seized by the man that was himself, racing into a perfect infinity-under the wistful heat, of the Mediterranean sun.