Equivocality

A Coal Poem

A long abandoned building was towering behind us while we were walking across a thin iron path which was once used by hissing metal monsters. I clumsily tried to balance myself on one of the rails, albeit to no avail. It became infinitely more easier when the fingers of my right hand interlocked with another person who also tried to balance herself. And as such, we managed to stay in perfect equilibrium and easily avoid all the mud around us by keeping to higher ground.

It was truly a beautiful walk. Even spiritual, at least for me. Nature surrounded us, tall trees stood towering above our meager size, the grass was gently brushing against our bare ankles and the birds were harmoniously singing in choir. The railway was the only thing not belonging there, but at this point, it was a pillar of resistance that got us through a deep and muddy portion of our road, and as such, it belonged there, at least for now. And as if nature wasn't all around us, a herd of mountain goats decided to join us in our journey, accompanying the singing birds with guttural sounds.

After about half an hour of walking, we reached our destination; sort of. I stood there before a huge bridge, towering over any building that I knew of back in my city. I took a weary step forward only to hear the clanking of metal as it bent slightly. A sigh escaped my lips. I was never truly a fan of heights, but I wasn't afraid of it either, so I continued to walk forwards. The view was simply grandiose and there was a little declaration of love at the bottom of the bridge, written in white stones that were to represent the purity of the genuine heartfelt message. My mind instantly jolted to a certain someone, yet I dismissed the thought and decided to walk with the others.

The bridge wasn't all that long and at the end of it, a glade awaited us with open arms. The railway continued a dozen or so meters forward, entering the depths of a now abandoned mine, one that hosted many dozen a people, all working to earn their bread. It was also the coffin and grave of brave men, thus resulting in its closure. At that time, I knew the story, a primordial shiver cursing through my bones just by glancing at the swallowing darkness that seemingly led to oblivion. I shook my head rapidly and followed the others, only to then drop onto the ground with a satisfied sigh. I felt the lush grass gently caressing my bare legs and arms, the fresh smell of flowers and the sight of the goats ascending towards the Heavens, jumping from one rock to another in perfect synchron.

I closed my eyes and let my mind drift away, towards distant mountains and green pastures, open meadows and dark caves, I flew over hills and forests, yet my meditation was soon interrupted by a sudden whistle. I opened my eyes only to notice that everyone got up and gathered around a certain figure. A frown took over my face as I was so rudely interrupted and decided to see what was happening, only to lay my gaze upon an aged man.

He was, as far as I was concerned, a legend around those parts. A long goatherd that traveled the surrounding plains and forests thoroughly, he was by far more nimble and agile than one would expect from a man of his age. This coal-coated veteran was not that tall, his physique being rather slim yet his posture remained firm and straight. A quilt of snow covered his head, while his face was adorned by a rich and neatly groomed beard of the same color. Garbed in nothing but old clothes and armed with a trusty wooden staff, the old man carried an allure of knowledge and experience.

By simply looking deep into his eyes I could tell that this one went through a lot and knew many things about life. If one couldn't realize the wisdom he carried within just by his aura, once he opened his mouth and started to recite poems written by nobody but himself and his wife, you'd truly be carried in the past and live the very moment that the man talked about. I stood there, mouth slightly agape, leaning on one of my friends while seeping every single word that the man was spewing, drawing knowledge from every letter and consuming the very essence that he was made of. My ears hungered for more, my mind was devouring the information...

...sadly enough, the old goatherd came to an abrupt end, bowed his head to us after sharing the very fabric of his life and went on his way, quickly leveling the rocks like one of the goats. I didn't even get to shake his hand and tell him what a great man he was. I was upset and sad that he left, I didn't even catch his name. Alas, a smile was still radiating on my lips. I stood there, looking at him as he dispersed in the dense foliage. I stood there, thinking of that man. I stood there, realizing I might never meet him again. I stood there, smiling.