The ice will bristle from the steps I make and the words I speak. On thin ice is every man hoping to achieve any power over his life. When the ice is strong surely only the weak walk upon it. As cold hits the sweat on my face it feels ever so warmer. I am as warm as one should be when facing certain death. A feverish trance leading me forward, moving my legs only when they want to be moved and wherever they long to be. I see only fog and its heat is drawing me in.”

Down there on the shore. How could you not see? The trees are so thin and few. So meek and lonely. In the tall snow there is someone running towards the frozen beach. Good life separated from eternal warmth only by a chilly fog.

He falls to his knees. Thrashing around in the snow hoping to find calm. Grasping at the withered plants in frustration, he speaks his final words; “I want only the satisfaction of life. I am the champion of myself, God in the only domain that has meaning. Whose dance will I be dancing today?”

A peaceful hum radiates the golden bull chasing the man across the frozen forest. A running bull is no use for itself, it would contradict the emotion it emits. True strength knows its own fruitfulness and abandons its beholder at first sign of desperation. The hum has the purpose of moving time. As gold is cold so is time only time and it moves. Only when the oxen is free is it that it moves at the correct pace.

“PURPOSE HAS LOST YOU FROM ITS GRIP. DANCE AGAIN AND YOU WILL LIVE ONLY IN PLEASURE AND DESPAIR.” The bull exclaims.

He runs frantically down the rocky hill that meets with the thin ice that has engulfed the foggy sea. The man throws his head behind him to see what awaits him. His conscience beats no more from pain so dull and anonymous. He runs only in harmony with torment.

“FROM TORMENT HAVE YOU BEEN SEEKING SHELTER. COME WITH ME AND YOU WILL ONCE MORE SUFFER IN BLISS.”

He can’t do it anymore, he thinks. His feet are warm from the devastation to his psyche. Traversing barefoot on the thin ice is the only thing he wants. As he meets the edge of land and the beginning of the unknown he looks back one last time.

“STEP ONTO THIN ICE. FROM THERE YOU WILL KNOW SELF-RELIANCE.”

For him running is only the same as facing the truth. Nothing will lead him away from the decline that he desperately needs. Listen and he will disobey. Disobey and he will listen. Nothing comes without regret. He steps onto the ice seeking his final pleasure.

With the golden bull following him solemnly he comes far onto the thin ice before it crackles. The fire that has kept him warm for so long has made the ice he runs on so unbearably thin. In fear of continuing he throws himself down and weeps. The bull now standing only a few feet from himself. He finally sees it clearly.

“FALL THROUGH THE ICE. SUCH IS THE FUTURE THAT HOLDS THE TORMENTED.“

The man sits down on his knees and puts his face to his palms in despair. He exclaims his first words; “How I want to be a child once more. No one has more power over their life than them. I have once felt and feel I will once again. Only in the death of my comfort will comfort only mean death. In the past this suggestion would only be dismissed had you tried to reason with me. But life is no better than that. Nature wants me to subside. But from what height? What ascension have I achieved that requires my decline from it. Vile poison that is. The pleasures of life are my poison. So dull are they that the only help is to feel nothing once more.” 

“SIT UPON MY SADDLE. I AM TRUE OMNIPOTENCE. LACKING OF GLORY, SEEPING IN POWER.”

As the ice beneath his feet becomes thinner and thinner he stands up and walks carefully over to the bull.

He weeps, “Are you peace and hope? Will you restore faith in my own autonomy? I am truly afraid of what is to come.”

He stands beside the bull. It is colder than any depth or glacier. As a rock from the depths of the grizzly ocean. Indeed it is in pain. It has gained all it has through the art of suffering, yet it has not lived a second in torment.

“I STAND ON THIS ICE AS I STAND IN SOIL. FIRST AND FINAL ARE UNITED IN ONE.  DARE YOU TO EMBRACE MY COLDNESS AND AS A YEAR HAS PASSED, YOU WILL ONCE MORE FEEL WARMTH IN YOUR HEART. “

The man looks the bull in his calm eyes. So serene and soft. Yet it is waiting for nothing. It exhales softly as if it has experienced the joys no man ever will. 

With the ice beneath them on the brink of cracking completely, he finally sees it clearly.

8/1/2020