Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Star Catcher by Juan Ekis


“Why do you do this?”
“If I start to name a reason, then it will not be worth it,” was the star catcher’s reply.
The star catcher waited at midnight and caught a star with his bare hands.
“What is that for?” asked the sea nymph.
“I shall forge the star into a poem. So that you can have one every morning for the rest of your life.”
The sea nymph could not see the sunrise which she always dreamed of. The rays of the sun were too strong for her eyes. Because of this, she was perpetually sad. The star catcher knew that if he gave her a poem each morning, it would paint a picture of the sunrise in her mind.
So every morning, the star catcher went on top of the highest cliff and waited for midnight. When midnight struck, the star catcher would stretch his arm and reach for a star. It was not easy. Each time he caught one, it burned his hands. And every time he forged one into a poem, it hardened his heart and numbed his soul. When the sun rose, he would go to the beach and wait for the sea nymph. There, he offered her the poem he fashioned from the star.
“What happened to your hands?”
“It’s nothing. I hope you like this.”
The sea nymph consumed the poem fashioned by the star catcher. “Thank you. It’s very beautiful.” As the star catcher left the beach, the sea nymph could hear his heart beat: He is in love.
Every night, the star catcher chased a star and burned his hands. He struggled with each one and crafted them into the most beautiful poems his hands could ever create. But with every poem, his heart hardened, his soul faded.
Every morning he’d willingly and lovingly offer his poems to the sea nymph. The sea nymph simply thanked him and asked him every time: “Why?”
Finally, the star catcher gave her his reason.
“Because every time i give you one, I can see you smile.”
He hands her his latest poem, she smiles. He leaves the beach, and she hears the music of his heart beat.
A hundred days. A hundred poems. And slowly, it opened her eyes. The image of the sunrise painted by the poems prepared her eyes to see the real magic of it. She wept. Because she was happy.
On the hundreth day, she excitedly went to the shore to tell her star catcher that she can now see the sunrise.
She saw the star catcher standing by the shore, staring at the horizon.
His eyes were dead.
“Thank you for your poems. They were beautiful. I can now see the sunrise…”
Silence.
“Don’t you have another poem for me?”
“But you are already smiling…” the star catcher smiled at the sea nymph. “Good bye.”
As the star catcher walks away, the sea nymph saw that he had no more hands and she could no longer hear his heart beat.

Reblogged from: kakagonzales.tumblr.com
Photo from fineartamerica.com 

***
Give more, expect less. =)
Catch a falling star, and give this to another.
Till you see this other break into a smile. (which, for me, is more beautiful) =)

2 comments:

Your turn! Always excited to read your comments! :)