A tale inscribed in ancient history tells of a creation manifested from human clay. Endowed with an impeccable capacity to love, the animated mold graced the earth in silence. Her existence, spanning eras of evolutionary pathways, borne a legacy untarnished in the hearts of men. The tale has it that when the legacy is smudged by the most ill of ways, darkness will wither the light and the stoic origins of mankind will rule the universe.
The birth of time beheld a barren land. As the man lays in slumber, darkness reined his meaningless strife. When he awoken with a mirroring form before him, he discovered light. Finally, the sparks of dawn gave him a human beacon. Yet the human beacon means much more than a guide in darkness – when the sun towered over the earth, the woman was unveiled: he saw beauty.
They configured the land together; harmoniously swayed with the trees and flowed with the stream. The whole creation coming to life at every bird that chirped, every tree that willowed, and every fish that swam. The tale goes on to narrate that at the moment the woman spoke, he heard music. With his existence purposeful, he embarked in unfolding who he is. Inside his human form, a humane potential is brought to life: he took her hand to his and trailed the left of his chest. Through her, he discovered his heart.
Their innate odyssey bloomed to another frontier. In his heart, a constant thumping went insistent. The complex feeling gave life to emotions and emotions gave life to love. Their union unfolded joy and joy built their first home. Though devoid of that paper, their vows for love eternal became a cemented legacy for the generations to deem sanctified forever.
Now, she lays by the window in silence. Afar she looks for someone coming. The light on the home is still burning; the warmth emanated to embrace who comes knocking: husband, brother, sister or child. She often wonders where you are – when the night is deep and you are out there not asleep.
Now, she relays the light to the darkest minds. In hopes for the mind’s illumination she devotes her life. You walk around with plugs on your ears; failing to realize her words is your future’s music. Wisdom she tried to teach but as a husband, a student, a son and a daughter, you remain distant to her voice.
Now, before you, the light is waning. On her feet she lay begging. A little mercy she pleads a little kindness she prays. At black and blue she lives beaten by your hands. In vile circumstances you never gave her a chance. The husband she learned to love is after all, a barbaric monster.
Now, the lights are fake; snaps of flickering shots are rolled into surreal life ads. Ads are absolute lies. In its premise, you call her charismatic but you use her to fix your bread. Attached to cars, films and wine, she is merely a marketed material in the name of art.
Now, there is you and time. When everything passes, you realize you’re lacking. The gratitude you never said, the time you never gave, and the love you never shared. She is the woman, the wife, the mother – your soul – soon saying farewell.
This article was first published in The Baguio Midland Courier. Please follow this link to view the article.
Thank you to Engin Akyurt for the featured image.