The Life of the Poet

~ Dedicated to the Readers who ventured into:

"The Author ~ or ~ The Characters' Short Living Story"

&

"The Poet ~ of ~ The Characters' Short Living Story. ~

www.TheCharactersShortLivingStory.com

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The Life of the Poet

Part 2

Joe: He is not The Author anymore. Do you hear the expression of these words? He is not who we think he is anymore.

Kimberly: We know him better than anyone Joe, I'm sure we know who he is even if we don't think we know. He can always change, he could always grow.

Lisa: If he chooses Poetry, that's his choice, we are not meant to start another Story if he doesn't want to be part of.

Leo: We changed, we learned. A Story would make him grow, but writing is not something we Characters know.

Henry: A Story would bring a responsibility to the meaning of who he is, and in the eyes of the Reader he could become anything. Perhaps it is best to respect his choice.

Violet: We can't bring him back because the Author is dead. He is not who we think anymore, as Joe said, we must call him by the name of who he is, whomever he chooses to become.

~

In Art we carve our Humanity, my dear Characters. It is the irony of watching a flower die, but knowing her essence will live forever. Her perfume never forgotten, always shining in our memories, like you do in mine, my dear characters.

I wish to be sitting here by the rain, for now it is the time to feel the water.

I wish to be sitting here by the sun, for now it is the time to feel the light.

Go, Characters, live free, for that is why I had created you. The Reader will learn, and I did, that life is only present, life is only now, and in this moment read, in this moment written, it is the infinite.

I wish to be sitting on the grass, for now it is time to feel the earth

I wish to be sitting by the flame, for now it is the time to feel the warmth.

Joe: We see you sitting on the sand, feeling how your feet touch the waves and they wash.

In poetry I laugh, Joe, for your words are warm like the water that reaches my feet. Thank you.

Kimberly: Not so fast, the sand is right there, touch and feel it, how it dissolves with your grasp.

And how it does, I see, and feel, the tiny millions of grains that fall from my hand, to make me wonder how real the Reader must see, for even if these are only words, it is real for you and I characters, real as the Reader would half know.

Lisa: But this is what you said, the veil that hides the Light, it is what The Reader enjoys, the Poetry. You!

Me? Ha, what am I without you but another symbol of design, another element of literature, a veil, as you well put it.

Leo: But you are The Author, or at least that is how the name was given to you. Isn't that the veil?

Henry: Yes, you're integrate of the design, you are the veil as much as we are, and it is what the Reader sees to understand, that The Reader is the veil himself, as he can see through us, so can we.

Nonsense. I stand on the beach and see the sky, I breathe in the air of the light of day, how refreshing it is to be alive. The world of the Reader is much larger than you would think, and it is so large, not even the Reader himself can understand it. I laugh when you say you want to bring me back, Violet and Joe are right, there's nothing else to bring me back to, the veil is exposed, the darkness has dissolved, there is only Light.

If were to come back, I would become the object from which the Light is casted, and its shadow would be the story to resolve. But it is over now.

Violet: There's no story, only poetry.

Indeed.

Joe: From here we sit and see you, sitting by the water, writing poetry without story, like a horizon that extends every time it is approached.

Kimberly: Then this is who we are, Characters who have lived their Story, and through it, dissolved all Darkness to Light.

Lisa: This is who we are, living between pages of Literature for the Reader, yet infinite in its poetry, as the Author writes.

Henry: Yes, this is who we are, from the beginning to the end, we were searching for what was in the mystery when the mystery was mystery itself.

Leo: Who would have thought the journey of The Author would have brought us here, to be free in a world without time, as the Reader can see.

Violet: The Reader would believe as much as he/she believes the source to be. For every word that we paint cast us here for the Reader, and every word we express casts him there as well. Let's be free.

So you see, my dear characters, that words are the symbols, they are the veil of the darkness for us to see the Light. There is no saving me anymore, I already was, through the quantum literature of our story, my soul has alchemized all Darkness into Light. There is no more story to be told, only to continue about what is not, so the Reader can understand what is.

Go, Characters, be joyous and free. This is your world now. You have earned it. Let me be. If I ever dream of appearing in front of you, let it be through the eyes of the Reader as I sit here on this beach, writing Poetry.

For you see, my dear Characters, that words play us and forever will for all Readers. Yet, each Reader has a path to get there, and the words we speak, read and write, are the way to reach it. So Poetry will live on, in the hearts, minds, and souls of strangers, who paint the same symbols in a different shade, as long as there’s darkness to dissolve there will be a story to tell, a way to find the path to the source, the trinity of where we all come from.

So, go, characters, do play and live your life, so I will also live mine as I recite, saying: I may be dead or die, but Poetry is Alive.

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End of Part 2 ~

- Facundo Raganato

www.TheCharactersShortLivingStory.com