The Sixth Coming

There was no doubt - - - that to the casual early morning market goers - - - on this calm and sunny day - - - the long ships - - - with a single sail and five oars to a side - - - seemed not crudely constructed - - - but bespoke of a gentle life of sea breezes and favorable winds - - begot of a lifetime of gentle sailing on a gentle glacial sea.  But the Stone Hauer was enough of the world to know that while these ships boasted a crisp canvas sail with which to catch the morning breeze and a romantic notion of a market goer or two - - - these long ships were for the most part blatantly austere.

But austereness like beauty - - - is in the eye of the beholder - - - for the Stone Hauer knew that for the old grizzled seafarers - - - long since reduced to repairing torn fishing nets - - - these long sailing ships were an object of scorn - - - for these men of steel - - - who had had their ancient spirits tempered in a baptism of blood and fire long before memory - - - were of a time and place where a man battled his way through life with courage and wit and did not have to depend upon a whimsical breeze to blow him to shore at a day and time of its own choosing - - - for these men - - - whose wayward lives had become as turned and twisted as the rivers that they loved - - - vehemently eschewed the sail for the oar and the cabin for the elements - - - showing an open and profound distain for those younger and softer than they - - - who had greedily and foolishly forsaken strength for comfort and had become emasculated in the process.

But enough of these long ships and men of twisted steel!!!

The Stone Hauer - - - once again - - - hopefully cast his gaze westward in the direction of his memories - - - searching for a mast and sail of a more gentle and enduring nature - - - that of a great sailing ship - - - which sought not to barricade its children from their mother sea and father sky with heavy planks and coarse black oakum - - - but sought - - - with reed and rush - - - to coax mother sea to gently rock her boat cradle and gently lull her children to sleep - - - where once asleep father sky could bear them away on soft warm breezes to the here-to-for unforetold lands of discovery and compassion.

As the soft lullaby of the gentle waves softly lulled his mind’s eye to sleep - - - the Stone Hauer found himself as the happy boy-child he once was - - - wandering these self-same lands of compassion and discovery - - - innocently hand-in-hand with a girl-child - - - and as one with these children of the warm gentle seas.  

The Stone Hauer slightly awakened at some distant sound - - - but - - - soon closed his eyes as he felt his worn spirit meld with the splintered memories of this ancient glacial sea - - - for he too was ancient - - - and - - - he too could remember the passions of his youth - - - and - - - the time when he had the power to grind rock into sand.

Again - - - in a half-dream - - - the Stone Hauer heard the distant and faint whirling of the chain-pump - - - and saw the glacial sea’s one more futile attempt to escape the confines of its valley - - - willingly becoming the slave to gain the top of the mountain where perchance it might slip away unnoticed - - - as a gentle mist - - - to rain down amidst unknown adventures.   

He opened his eyes - - - and - - - gazed back across the canal - - - at the palace prison from which he had just this morning - - - in all haste - - - departed - - - magnificent in its splendor -  - - but terrible in its confinement - - - turquoise belvedere pinnacle against an early morning magenta sky. 

Soft wisps of clouds serendipitously wafted in the sky - - - forming fleeting images of loved ones and childhood scenes - - - merging into faces and places - - - only to drift away again as with his fleeting thoughts. 

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