Friday, May 18, 2007

The Ritual

I give you this.
You may not want it at the moment, and it may take years for you to even realise what it is. But here, take it. It is yours.

It is a strange thing I give you. A thing that you cannot touch, cannot taste, cannot see - although I know that plenty would disagree. If this thing were visible I am not even sure that I could begin to describe it. It is beyond colour, beyond texture, a thing so beautiful that no painter, no photograph, and no eye has ever been able to define. But, of course, it is tangible, reminding us constantly with the footprint that it leaves silently behind it.
As you lie there, watching me with those eyes that reach beyond, I know that at this moment I am able to hold it in my hands. It is as solid as rock and light as feathers. It is here as well, in my head and in my heart, ready and waiting for you.

You frightened me though. I didn’t prepare for how much I would have to give you. I worry that it is so huge that you will not be able to carry it and you will be suffocated by the power of it. That it will grow so enormous that I will never be able to let you go from my arms negating the true purpose of this ancient gift.
But I do have confidence. I know that this has happened a million, million times. Not only to our own family, parents, grandparents, but to strangers, friends and to our enemies, who have all done what I am about to do now. As life starts, this ritual is going on all over the world, every second of every day, and as it happens we pass on a legacy that has been the glue of mankind since we began.
My need to give you this is as strong as your need will be to pass it on in the years to come. There is no choice if we wish to learn and to live and to grow.
And so I give you the seed of my love. It will grow as you grow, change, alter, ebb and flow with time. You are my child, and in you I have planted my love, whether you want it or not.
(This was an entry in the Moon Topples competition on the theme of 'growth'.