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The Legend Of The Wayside Series

April 06, 2012 | Comments: 0 | Views: 171

1. The Beginning

I sat by the pass of the Wayside in sorrowful contemplation like one in a trance; the vista of my troubled past flashed through my clogged mind.

Journey men and women passed on by, some looked at me scornfully, haughtily. Most never even glanced, and I pondered if I really existed. The looks and non-looks only made the pains within worse and my misery unbearable.

Within me I really did wish one would stop and acknowledge me with a sympathetic greeting, or better still bid me rise; but nobody cared, they all came and went their way as I sat in limbo. But I fore-knew this would be it, or I thought I knew what would be on this side of pass.

After a while, unconsciously I stared intently at the journey-men to lock eyes with any of the faces that throng past. I searched intently for just a face or two to find some iota of sympathy or even the faintest of smile. As I stared, my eyes locked with some of the folks. I fathomed depths of mixed emotions in the eyes of the passers and loiters; despair, courage, fears, weaknesses, sorrow, and uncertainty. Some were in haste, others passed by languidly, still some more loitered, uncertain, out of themselves and unmindful of the great throng this side of the pass. Strangely my mood lightened, my interest peaked; it's like the faces transmitted some strange feelings of 'knowing', of an inner balm of calm, a certainty that nothing is lost, but much more to be gained on the Wayside.

As for the journey, most trudged on alone, some had companions, others in groups. Many had with them bags of burdens for a long journey; they went with bikes, trucks, bicycles and many more on foot. And of course there were the merrier ones, boisterous. The Wayside pass was a mixed bag of faces, destinies, and lives undecided and decided.

On the Wayside I deed I have companions, a mixed multitude. They were not exactly what you would term companions in the literally sense, probably neighbors or my Fellows would suffice, because we are all neighbored on this side of life; the Wayside.

By my side were itinerants; good, bad and the ugly, mockers, sprinkled with ordinary folks, cynics, saints, egoists, schizophrenics, jetsam, flotsam and all sorts.

The vision of my dream portrays the Wayside as a descent into limbo, more like the transit side of life, could be a stop-gap, temporary state of lapse, or better still a place of rest from the harsh rigors of reality.

It is like a place to recuperate, muster energy, be reinforced, learn and discover the other part, or the unknown side of our selves i.e. capacities, limits, weaknesses, darker natures, better sides and of life in a clearer perspective in order to metamorphose and reinvent into the larger life positively into someone better.

To many of my neighbors however the Wayside has become a permanent abode. For such the will and courage to move on has long dissipated so that the resolve to hang on and live their dreams is broken. What was meant to be a brief repose, a momentary lull form the vicissitude of life has become a permanent refuge.

As for me I knew I have to be strong in order to move on move, I have a destiny to fulfill, a prophetic destiny at that.

To maintain focus here is a most difficult task, given the desensitized and despondent atmosphere prevailing by this side of life. An elderly Fellow in the colony informed me that to find oneself be by the Wayside is to be out and off focus. He concluded that the only escape is to constantly focus on the journeymen that pass by the Wayside.

The vision of my dream portrays the Way-Side as a descent into limbo, more like the transit side of life, could be a stop-gap, temporary state of lapse, or better still a place of rest from the harsh rigors of reality.

It is like a place to recuperate, muster energy, be reinforced, learn and discover the other part, or the unknown side of our selves -our capacities, limits, weaknesses, our darker natures and better sides- and of life in a clearer perspective in order to metamorphose and reinvent into the larger life positively into someone better.

To many of my neighbors however the Way-Side has become a permanent abode. For such the will and courage to move on has long dissipated -the inner resolve to hang-on and live their dreams broke- what was meant to be a brief repose -momentary lull form the vicissitude of life- has become a permanent refuge.

Source: EzineArticles
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