The Fruits of the Sickle Bearer

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

The marvel of an overlooked perception dazzled me. I feel that the Great Harvester tested the lesson on patience on me as I ventured about my day; albeit it is because I can be patient that I can gain insight into my surroundings and myself. My trajectory today led me to a hospital, and for various reasons, I was set to wait; however, my time was far from wasted.

Besides being bombarded by the usual everyday din and the unwavering restlessness of people, I found myself surprised when I realized that I could not summon into mind any day in the past few years and even further back when I found such an amount of elder folk in one place. The hospital’s entrance brimmed with knowledge and experience in withering vessels.

From the elderly, only one pale and short lady on a walker smiled with the same spark as would a child. The rest were torn and beaten, dwelling in severe semblances and pools of judgement

There was a black lady in particular who carried herself as if her strength would forsake her at any moment. She sat in a corner, far away in thought with eyes of glass. Such illuminating sight! This woman, this vast repertoire of art – her pain was of a beauty phenomenal. She glowed with the starriness of an abyssal sky, the many points of light reflecting through the deep waters of life. She dwelt in a beauty of another kind, yet she may never realize the charm.

Half-way to Psychic Endeavour

Image by Prettysleepy2 from Pixabay

As we waited for our order in the pizza shop, a mother with her child walked in.

The child was inquisitive, and wanted his mother to buy him a colourful ball from a vending machine.

I shifted my attention to the little boy, and could not help but look at him beyond his human enclosure as to know more information about him.

The child’s tender behaviour charmed and amused the whole establishment – all eyes were on him.

In a way, his whole spectacle, reflected something as though it gave me an answer.

I forthwith tried to remember something.

I knew, yet I was not conscious yet.

I thought of that boy from childhood named José Carlos.

Before I could explore any further, the mother called her son by his name, Carlos.

I became conscious of that which I searched. Hearing his name was like obtaining relief after craving for something to fall on my head.

Thereafter, I pulled my consciousness away from him and addressed my companions.