Idle Devotion

In the pale morn over the hills yon, the bells did toll his passing. For every deed of his remembered so many were the tears shed. Nature stilled to honor the chanting while the undertaker buried their dead. "Did you recall the wind when it weeped? Or remember the falling of trees? I dare not collect so many dreams and see them become mere memories. The people now here have made their mistakes, you took your risks. And now do you cry foul? Cry tears if you must, even mourn for a while but for those who lose heart take your pride and leave."

It was the speech for the departed, and only those already lost to life would utter it. And after an eternity of listening a young man drew forward to speak the life of his friend. "Many here knew his actions and his words, but few were those who knew him. I was a watcher, and neigh upon being a friend." The crowd murmured uneasily as they realized he would not hold back.

"Most of his life was already lived before he realized it. He had gusto as a child with the joy of youth, and every new thing was his for the taking. Yet when he aged and left behind the child he grew not into manhood but rather he droned on through life. Flittering about from hope to hope, he gained only to know he did not. And yet despite this he talked to me often." It seemed the graveyard took a breath, praying the tale would end well.

"He would tell me of his life and the problems he encountered. He would tally his unhappiness in the shadow of the blessings. He would betimes accuse those who caused him harm. Yet most of all he would always ever tell me of his passion, the one thing he hoped to attain." Many were smiling, ready to be pleased at their friend's hope. "His master was ease, and the object that brought him a moment of peace."

Disappointment, grief. "His one hope, the only thing which kept him from despair was the slim chance that one day, somehow, the things which have failed him countless times would finally ripen to bring about paradise. Once when he was not quite an adult, but not quite a child he had a pure vision. To be a loyal subject and the bringer of peace. Yet what brings me the most sorrow was to see so much of his life wasted, so much which still might be."

It would have been comforting to say there was no dry eye in the field of the dead, yet untrue. The only one who wept, the only one who seemed to care, and the only one who remembered the words was the one who spoke them. He had come hoping to make a friend that day but those who had come only turned away. Even though they knew the undertaker would come for them as well, they too clung to an insane hope thinking their alternative to be a mad dream.

His last words were, "Lo, I remember the wind when it weeped, and I recall the falling of trees. I dared to collect all the dreams, even when they are snatched from me. I made no mistakes but I took the biggest risk, and your whole life you cried foul at my loving caress. I shall cry tears when I need, and even mourn for eternity but I shall be stout of heart knowing there will not always be a cemetery."

Dt