The Voice and The Desert.

Desert

It was the best of days and best of times, as her face, ever so bright, set ablaze the dark corners of the house. She had the smoothest skin, I could recall, and her well carved teeth, through her perfect smile, competed with the glittering stars of the night.

The sound of her footsteps, like the heart beats of a smiling god, reverberated the entire building and the foundations of the earth were made glad with her gentle strides. Her touch was like the comfort of a thousand pillows and whenever she wrapped her arms around me, I felt like drowning in her essence.

She laid her head on my bare chest that night, counting the beats of my heart in silence, she etched her soul on mine. Words were inappropriate for that moment, so instead, we basked in the euphoria of each other’s breathe.

It seemed like eternity.

“Make a promise to me”, her voice sounded like a love song as she lifted her head and stared into my eyes. “Make a promise to me”.

What promise?” came my reply, knowing I was ready to take a long walk into hell for her. Her big Brown eyes had me fixated.

“Promise me you will always come home, no matter how long it takes, promise me, you will always find your way home”.

I never really understood what she meant or what she was asking of me, not until I stood stranded without a hope. I knew she wasn’t making reference to the place where we lived, of course not, I knew my way to the house, but still, that night, I hastily made the vow to her.

Torn and broken I became when she left and wandering through the dry land of despair, hope deserted me. She was my compass, my anchor, my sanity and losing her to the icy hands of nature turned off the light. Confined with the chains of depression, I wandered through the desert of darkness with nothing but my imagination as company. It was hard for me to realize a life worth living without her presence and more than once or twice, the thoughts of joining her crossed my feeble mind.

I longed to be relieved of the burden of loneliness, but the more I tried, the more I found respite in my solitude. I thought to myself, this is it, there is no coming out of this. To the left, to the right, I found no landmark in sight, and nobody was around to pull me as I edged closer to vagueness. Life, as I saw it, had lost its meaning, or perhaps, I had lost meaning in life.

Two year after she was taken, a quiet wind accompanied the memory of that night she laid on my bare chest and as sharp as daylight, the thoughts were conjured. Silently, calmly but clearly, the promise I made to her stared me in the face and in an instant, my eyes were set aglow. I had to find my way home.

Perhaps life has lost its taste in your mouth, and all you do is to wonder if tomorrow is worth waiting for, well, I can’t say I understand what you feel, no, yours could be dreadful than mine, but here is what I will say, every desert has an end to it. No matter how long, no matter how far, once you can find your bearing, a new reason for living, it doesn’t take long before you find your way home. The only issue is that, most times we are too weak to find a new purpose and when we eventually find one, we are clothed with fear and uncertainty.

It is okay to be unsure of tomorrow, but it is not okay to be pessimistic. Give your purpose a voice and always listen to that voice. If it is not loud enough, increase the volume.

Remembering my vow to her spurred me in ways I could not explain and soon enough, I realized what I needed to do. And yes, most times, all I wished for, was to slip back into that quagmire of depression, but her voice kept reminding me, “you have to find your way home”.

She may not be here today, physically, but within me, I know, through these dry lands, the sound of her voice will always guide me home.

Find your own voice.

it’s a beautiful world.

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