martes, 16 de agosto de 2011

-Where does all this water come from?

-It comes from a mountain whose peak is covered by a mighty cloud.

-What kind of cloud? – The youth asks.

The Old man answers:

-Every man carries within him hopes, fears and longings. Every man shouts out his despair or bears it in his mind. Some pray to a particular god, others address their cries to the void. This despair, this hope… this dream of deliverance, all these cries, all these tears are gathered over thousands and thousands of years and condense into an immeasurable cloud around a high mountain. Out of the cloud rain flows the mountain forming the streams and rivers that flow through the great forests. That’s how the springs are formed where you can quench your thirst , wash your badly burnt face, cool your blistered feet. Everybody has at some tome heard of the mountain, the cloud and the springs but most people anxiously remain on the dusty road in the blazing light.

-Why do they stay there? - Asks the youth in great astonishment.

-I certainly don’t know” -Replies the old man- Perhaps, they’ve convinced themselves and each other that they’ll reach their unknown destination by evening.

-What and unknown destination? - Asks the young man The old man shrugs his shoulders…

-In all probability the destination does not exist. It’s deception or imagination. I myself am on my way to the forest and the springs… I was there once when I was young and now I’m trying to find my way back. It’s not easy let me tell you.

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