Something I’ve been mulling over:
Much of our world today speaks the language of Reason—facts, logic, proofs.
It is a powerful and necessary tongue.
It has built bridges, cured diseases, carried us into the stars.
But it is not the only language we need.
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There was once a stonemason who lived at the edge of a wind-swept land where nothing stayed the same for long. The river shifted its course each season. The dunes crawled across the plain like great, lumbering beasts. Even the stars overhead seemed to shimmer with uncertainty.
The people of the land built with haste and little hope — they expected things to fall apart. And of course they did.
But Elyas, the stonemason, carved each stone with the care of one who believed it mattered. He never hurried. His walls held longer than most, but still, in time, even his finest arches cracked, even his best-laid foundations shifted.
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What grows in the quiet spaces between thoughts?
This is The Garden of Perhaps — a contemplative video with original music, and a poetic reflection.
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MP3 Narration with Music:
The drought had lasted longer than anyone in the village could remember. Cracked earth stretched as far as the eye could see — the fields brittle and gray. The stream—once lively and clear—was now a mere trickle, barely enough to fill cupped hands. (more…)
In the desert city of Lenar, there was a rope-maker named Jaya who crafted the strongest ropes in the region. Her ropes secured merchant caravans, anchored desert sails, and even hoisted the palace’s golden chandelier. But for all her skill, Jaya had one relentless enemy: the sand magpies. (more…)
In the small village of Elmbridge, nestled between rolling hills and dense forests, there lived a boy named Corwin. From the moment he could talk, it was clear he saw the world differently. While other children played games of chase or tended to their chores, Corwin would lie in the fields, gazing at the clouds, imagining them as floating castles or great beasts. (more…)
In a land cradled by rugged mountains and vast deserts, there lived a warrior named Kael. Renowned for his skill and bravery, Kael had fought in countless battles, earning him both respect and fear. Yet, despite his victories, he still wanted more. Every triumph felt hollow, every celebration fleeting. It was as though he were chasing something that was always three steps ahead of him.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast the world in fiery hues, a traveling bard arrived in Kael’s village. The bard spoke of a legendary sword—the Blade of Varyon—hidden deep within the Whispering Canyons. The sword was said to grant its wielder unmatched power and victory in every battle. Intrigued, Kael approached the bard after the tale. (more…)
