Like Children

That distant sound we hear is the same call of ages.

We fly to each other on a familiar path, and our robes shine like snow within the other pair of eyes – the marks we bear are read effortlessly, twin to the timeless song in our voices.

Our grace is made of laughter, the secrets are smiles. Time is nothing when we wrap ourselves in joy; the pattern of our dances rings all through the desert, loud and cheerful.

To the little ones like us, it is a game.

We have trodden these ways in black once, we have learnt together – this new dawn must be of happiness, for ourselves and for the embraces we find again in each other. Our call rises with our souls; we slide on powerful wings, earned through the deepest sufferings.

It is a game of living, free of thoughts.

We sink, aglow in the darkness, to bring our echoes again in this abandoned home. We climb and run and rest in silence, spreading the rays of our love all around; we know that later, deep down in the sand, a gloomy air awaits us. There we will be as light as sunrise, steady with our wisdom.

It is a game of memories and improvement.

We learn new ways of cutting through the air, bound to nothing but the mere force of life. We trace every movement with the hand of destiny, careless and blessed with levity – we add fair brushstrokes to an obscure background, one we have built and forgotten.

It is a game of discovery, even for us white souls.

We remember and fight the shadows like one – the touch of happiness never abandons us, becoming the first and last shade of our strength.

Everything pulls us back; we dance and twirl, smiling on. No force could ever bind us, for we have been through this already.

Just as we knew it would end, we knew we would make it anyway. That is why even there, in the middle of death, our eyes keep their joyous spark.

It is a game to fill your sight with truths.

There lies our end, free and full of strong winds to dance with. We spread our voices, louder than ever, in a flowing chain of laughter; and our tears of joy fall, mingling with the crystal waterfalls, towards the home we once belonged to.

We feel how we will never be truly parted – how the truth behind us, our playful determination, kept us together a thousand times.

It is a game of enlightenment and beginnings.

We close our current lives with newborn eyes. After the sufferings, after living the whole experience, we have gone back to the start – we listen to our being in the most essential of ways, and the pure flow of life is all that matters.

At the summit of wisdom, our souls are children; we fade away to feel the truth, without barriers, without mist.

It is a game, both of pain and wonder.


Originally posted on 7th January 2012

A tiny story inspired by the wonderful Journey that I and my dear companion Zean22/awandererstales shared this afternoon. Our experience went wonderfully well with something I have always wanted to put in words: the joy and the playful attitude of the experienced players who, after hundreds of games, have little to discover, and a lot more memories and emotions to share. Today's Journey was the perfect example of this feeling we shared - the will of creating, of playing, of joking and showing your affection in thousands of ways.
Thank you very much, friend. May our paths cross again in the desert.