Unknown Longing

In a small town in a river valley, there was born a boy who listened.

He listened to the wind and the whispers of the secrets they bore. He listened to the hearts beating around him and the murmurs of the pain they held. He listened to the secret chime of an unknown bell.

And he dreamed. Dreaming of a secret place where he was home. A perfect place where the chiming bell rang out and the wind whisked the pollen in sparkling dances and the hearts beat around him with only joy.

Such a place must exist, he thought. It was as if the whispering wind bore its messages to him across the glittering river and the mountains high. It was out there somewhere, calling him.

He longed for it.

A place he'd never known. Never smelled its tranquil dust and woody stillness. Never felt the calm serenity. Never seen the mystery. A goodly place. A wondrous place.

It called to him.

And so one day he left his town and friends and family...the aching hearts. And he set out along the dusty roads, through baking fields of grain and rustling corn stalks. Along winding streams and across verdant meadows. Through towns and into forests thick and deep with mossy murk.

Earthy places, quiet and redolent.

And in the silence, he heard still the whispering wind, calling him on, and the secret chiming.

And though there was no one else about, he heard also the murmuring pain of a human heart.

He plunged on through the twisting trees and lichen covered rocks. Away, away from the quiet agony that stalked him. Away from pain and people, deep into the mountains, following the mysterious call of the secret chime.

Over the mountains, through the crisp snow. Fresh and bright. Sparkling and glittering in a static dance.

Howling wind drew him onward. Shivers wracked him and still the chime rang on and the pain followed him, tugging gently at his sleeve.

Would he ever escape it and find that mythic place he dreamed of?

Down the mountains, into new and exciting valleys, filled with unfamiliar trees and  strange animals.

New towns and New faces.

Across marshes, brimming with exotic scents and murmurs.

Through a barren plain, dotted with dry cacti and bedraggled birds.

And to a city, humming with noise and choked with smoke and hundreds of sweaty people, bustling, ever bustling.

And on from there, dogged by the murmuring heart pain and drawn on by the secret.

It must exist, it must!

Across grassland and into hills alive with steaming geysers.

Mystical and bubbling with possibility.

A canyon of holy magma. A quiet place.

Not the place.

Not his dream.

Tears stung his eyes and he knew at last that the heart pain was his own.

The hot salt poured down his face and the chiming pulled at him and his heart cried out for that place he had never known.

And a bird sat upon his arm and whispered to him.

It does exist.

It does.

But you will not find it by running and searching the world for distractions to mask your pain. Your heart is broken from being ignored and your soul is dry from not being watered.

The secret. It lies within.

The hidden place was deep inside him. Buried beneath cares and lies and the falsehoods he had believed as a child.

But it chimed on from within and called to him. It longed to ease the heart pain and heal him.

It is real. It is here.

The home you long for but have never seen, it is you. If you will embrace yourself. As you are and not as the world has made you out to be.

Shed the shadows and let the light shine out of you.