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Ronin
By philip | May 6, 2008
The samurai lives by honor and the sword.
A young warrior, orphaned by war and the passing of his master, walked on a dry and dusty path. Well trained in combat, he believed in his strength but also in the inevitability of death. No thought of remorse passed when he saw fallen men, for he knew that just as the result of all life is death, so the result of all death is new life. Equally so, no blooming flower escaped his notice, nor did the scent of its sweet pollen drift without his quiet appreciation.
Trained in honor and courage, the young samurai felt driven to serve. He sought the helpless and friendless, and gave them aid. He taught the weak strength of character and hoped to serve the strong as an example of humility. He learned from monks and from masters of war, and sought balance and harmony in all things.
As he walked, he contemplated his path and wondered where his future lay. Samurai were meant to slay their spirit upon the death of their master, but he loved life too much to leave this world behind. In fact, his warrior soul cherished life more for having seen the blackness of the abyss pass before its eyes. So despite the temptation to give up his armor, he held firm to his sword and braved his walk alone.
Seeking camaraderie, he visited with other Samurai. Their spirit sounded with the cries of war, and echoed in the young man’s soul. But they were still under the service of their master, and had not yet discovered their own way.
Seeking again, he set out to the fields to speak with the farmers and people of the earth. They met him with innocent eyes and spoke great dreams of harmony and brotherhood. The warrior longed to believe in their vision, but feared the ease with which they lived, having seen the violence men were capable of.
Seeking still, he spent evenings in the houses of women, drinking their wine and eating their rich food. But the distant cry of battle and the knowledge that somewhere someone needed his service cut short most of these nights.
On he wandered, until sunset came and he slept under a pine on a bed of soft needles, cloaked by the fragrance of the sweet sap and warmed by the heartbeat of the earth itself.
to be continued…
Topics: life, as it comes |
July 14th, 2008 at 9:29 am
is this your writing?