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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1481750
Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1481750
A short fable
The hot sun is setting and a man has just finished planting next years harvest. As he ventures home through the woods, he laments quietely to himself, holding back tears incase some strolling strangers may witness them shed. He pities himself because he is weak, feeble, fallible... human. He is no god, demigod, warrior, or hero. Just a poor, simple, ignorant farmer drifting through life, without the power to effect the world in any way. While on his route, he stops at a fish pond to wash the dirt from his hands and the tears from his eyes. As he wades his hands in the water, without him even realizing, the fish look up in awe of the great entity whose hands can send ripples across their sky.
© Copyright 2008 Sean Hilton (minky at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1481750