the stellar dust had settled in the deepest and darkest crevices of the earth and when breathed with soul, it would surface in form of gold and silver and all other metals humanity held so precious. The ancient history of such elements could be traced by the souls they possessed. At that time, the origins of gold had been ascertained; that the stars that conspired to destroy the earth had in fact left a mark on its face for future generations in form of gold buried deep inside the folds of the earth, which later on man excavated to feed its greed.
when grandfather had whispered in my ear to follow him to the tree at the end of the road. I had held his warm hand in mine, our fingers entwined like the crutch-less branches of the old tree we were approaching. The musky smell of fresh soil and green leaves still prevails in my veranda. Upon reaching the tree he put his stick against its thick bark that was as wrinkled as him and sat down under its cool shade. The sun was touching the horizon and I vividly remember silently praying to God to delay the fast approaching dusk. Had I known what the night was to bring, I would have prayed for the waning sun to extinguish all that ever lived, including my existence.
“The tree smells of rot, doesn’t it?”, my grandfather said in a frail voice.
“Do you know what happens when a tree dies?”, he inquired. And as if he already knew my answer, he continued “A tree never dies, my child.” And with that he removed his parched hand from mine and placed both his hands on the tree trunk slowly whispering “my love, my love”.
As he closed his eyes, the sun breathed its last upon us for the day.