Prose

The man in the crowd!

From the great crowd one man, just one man raised his hands and head higher than anyone else.

This man saw where the sun came from this morning. And he knows that behind, way behind, far deep into the stomach of the universe from whence this unstopable bundle of power came, an unimaginable source of disruption will offer hope to all mankind amidst the chaos currently ravaging the world.

This man knows that one day, one day soon, sooner perhaps than we all think, time will stand still and listen to a voice that will lift man from all his cares and worries.

This man says he will not be overwhelmed by the burden of yesterday or the luggage of today or the fears of tomorrow.

This man knows that man’s best efforts can not fix the least of man’s problems.

This man knows that one day man will truly be “free at last”. Free from all forms of social, economic, political or biological viruses.

Do you know this man? Are you with this man? Can you find your face in this crowd, this great crowd? A crowd with no masks or sanitizers

The choice is yours, all yours.

May be, someday, I will sing you a beautiful song about this man. I heard the song from up there in the quiet of the snow white clouds. It was a song never before head by any man. The lyric is strong and sedative like the balm of Balsam.

The orchestra dressed in dazzling white left me breathless. The echoes travelled to the last crevice of time shopping for more voices.

Will you add your voice? I have.

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