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.
(more…)
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.
(more…)
Long ago—or perhaps only yesterday—a sorrowful soul had sealed himself inside a cave. At least that was the story. Some claimed he had been wronged, exiled unjustly. Others whispered that he had chosen his own exile, unable to bear what he had done, or failed to do. Over time, the tale became a warning: enter not the hollow where despair keeps watch. (more…)
A young woman tried to write a letter to her dying father.
She meant to say everything. (more…)
What grows in the quiet spaces between thoughts?
This is The Garden of Perhaps — a contemplative video with original music, and a poetic reflection.
(more…)
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…)
Sorin was mending fishing nets when he heard the first shouts of anger. He turned toward the square and saw Marek storming forward, fists clenched. Marek, whose rage had been boiling for weeks after his younger brother was found murdered along the road.
A crime with no culprit. Not even any clues.
And now, a foreigner had arrived. (more…)
At dusk, as the last rays of sunlight painted the town square in gold and violet, a traveler arrived. He wore a cloak woven from mismatched fabrics, each patch a different color, and his sharp eyes glimmered with something between amusement and knowing. He carried little, save for a tall mirror framed in wood so aged it seemed as if it had always been there. (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…)
Once upon a time there was a traveler journeying to a far country. One day he tripped over a green rock. “I must bring this rock with me, to remind me to never trip over another like it.”
So he put it in his knapsack. (more…)