"In my day.."

I reached my son's place 2 days ago. After the long journey that lasted nearly 24 hours, I could sense that something was amiss. I checked the vital statistics that enlist themselves at my age. Thus, after a time tested scanning of my bared joints, and 62 little nooks and corners that I have come to identify over the years, I diagnosed myself with no particular ailment as such.

And then, as I lazed around earlier today evening, I saw it. In a moment of stark revelation, that would return over the course of the coming hours, one saw the sordid face of a reality that would loop itself around oneself.

Its hard to get the exact details of the aforementioned moments, for it seems to exist in another dimension. Lets call that dimension 'gime' for now. Gime doesn't seem to be a linear, continuous axis, as the other dimensions we have come to accept, at least not to the cognitive senses I have at my disposal this moment. This I say because it seems to be a part of my existence in sporadic bursts, unlike the continuous presence of its other, more earthly, kindred.

Gime appears to me to be the dimension along which the mind opens unto itself, and identifies as yet unseen/unheard of/ unprecedented experiences.

Thus it represents several of the 'moment's that we have come to accept so tritely.

Anyhow, carrying on.

During these last few moments in gime, one saw the chains that had grown around one's once nimble feet. They had not been imposed or tied, rather it seemed as if they had evolved over time; said time being somewhere in the range of a week. One could see the lights that had adorned one's very existence, now fade fast into a numbing oblivion; one could feel the gentle lakeside breeze tip-toed-ly move towards a chilly blizzard. Finally, one saw one's little son, through whose eyes one had experienced most of one's existence, fight a brave battle against the elements in his universe. Even though that battle promises to be a long one, and might play itself out over the course of his life, it sees myself growing older at an alarming rate. For now one must fit into little corners and gaps, wherever the wavering hand finds it convenient.

Even though in my day I would interchangeably be King (oscillating with my beloved son) and rule over an ocean bursting at its seams, I find there is meaning to be sought here as well. For it is perhaps such times of refuge seeking adversity that truly prove the mettle of a worthy monarch. My son's battle is as yet incomplete, but so is my song. We shall see what outlasts the other.

As my world goes tumbling down,

My despairing child stands alone,

I must wait a thousand years looking over it,

For the song is still not sung;

The world is yet to be;

The life as yet not lived;

The truth still evasive.

Even if I lose him in the crowd,

While entering a new tomorrow,

I shall know that he has right in him,

Borne of a purity untouched.

He shall live on and so shall I,

And we shall realize in time,

The oneness of our existence.

Till that sun dawns,

I shall wait for my son;

To find his way.

For love is all one needs,

For the spirit to survive,

Till he finds his way

To the master's feet.

That shall be final convergence,

For he is I and I am he.

He whose feet we seek to find,

Shall be one with us in this revelation,

For I then shall see and so shall he,

That this is where love finds its purpose;

This is where we're meant to be.