posted on Apr, 5 2009 @ 03:29 PM
Note: As a mod in this forum my story is not eligible to win. I wrote it and placed it here only in the hope of inspiring my fellow writers. wupy.
The End of Day.
Thoughts swirled in and out as the alignment approached, the end of the day was near and all that was left were a few small tasks. Memories came to
mind and it felt good to dwell on them for just a short while.
The beginning was a favorite, when all was in mayhem and the only thing that truly existed was infinite possibility. Slowly, like the true artist,
the masterpiece was molded into the inspiration and dream of anyone seeking the beauty of their own soul. The noise was thunderous, but with out form,
for what words could truly express the majesty of birth?
Shape and form slowly came into being as chaos gave way to design. Touches of beauty here, a swirl of wonders there, and everywhere the promise of
things miraculous. This was only the beginning.
Across the canvas of existence came possibilities with each new stroke of the masters brush, This shade of light, that hue of color and the depth and
richness that flows inevitably into a work imbued with love.
The master who had brought such a creation into being understood that every true work of art is alive, it sings it’s own song and creates it’s
own prayers as to where it should go and where it has been. It cries out, often in agony, of where it is. Just as the master will lead the creation,
the artist inside will listen and allow.
Life, once created, will always reach out for it’s own purpose and meaning. It will dance with the artist to the celestial music that courses from
the master’s hands and it’s own heart. Together they will explore the wonder of one another in the exquisite moment that is. They taste the
divine, together, in the joy of each other’s company.
And so the moment comes when the artist must turn his attention to the details.
Here in this quiet little area the details shall stand out, on this little spot of all creation the artist brings forth true diversity. With wondrous
hills, oceans of water and an abundance of life that not only explores the mind of the artist, but the mind of itself. It is here that the master and
the artist will find the answers they have been seeking.
Lessons are always learned in any creation, be they the lessons of the creator or the created. What joy would there be in existing if there were no
edge to walk upon, risk to take or moment of wonder in understanding? Such gifts are not reserved for only the created, for then there would be no
sheer joy in the creation itself, no magic in the discovery of the undiscovered.
This is why there must be new creations, new works of art to stimulate the artist and explore the limits, if there are any, of what can possibly
The master had completed his latest work of art and knew it was time to move on. He would bring the life with him to whatever his new creation would
be, for every artist considers his work to be one of his children. Leaning forward he signed the piece 12/21/2012.
It was the end of the day and he was tired. Climbing into his bed he sank deep into the covers, pulled his pillows close and clapped twice. A billion
suns across his latest creation went dark.
As he drifted off to sleep he dreamed of creations he and his children would bring forth at the dawn.
The possibilities were endless.
[edit on 3-5-2009 by mrwupy]