The sight his eyes met when he moved his head in favour of the shadow behind the open window was one he’d always wished would last for eternity. It reminded him of all the dreams he had clung to as a little boy and how time has orchestrated his total distancing from his hopes.
The lush vegetation quietly dancing to the rhythm of the soft wind called to mind how at ease he had always been even when it was as though life was beating an unknown drum beat for him to dance to.
He had decided to wear insensitivity as his armour against the hurts that people were bound to shoot him with, with and without cause. He never assumed that this new found harbour of solace, the one he had built would be to his own undoing. He had tried as much as possible to convince himself that it has never actually been his fault that he got drenched in the rain of despair but the more he tried to erect an edifice of alibi, the more he saw his shortcomings. It wasn’t as though anyone had come with the mindset of getting his heart broken like a glass that slips from one’s hand but how it normally ends up turned him from a child full of vigour to one who has over a quarter of his days spent in despondency. He could not get his eyes off the lawn where the starlings busied themselves jumping from the hibiscus flowers that served as the boundary and perhaps eat the insects that came for a feast on the nectars. He could not place himself in the story written right before his eyes. He was like the insects that troubles had made it’s assignment to destroy. He looked at the starlings and saw more of his old self (though he never really got involved in destroying others). That was how his life had been a few years ago.
He had been the paragon of cheerfulness and revelry until the thought to free himself of all that really mattered to him grew as tall as the Iroko. Loneliness became a thing to give a warm embrace, at least to run away from the never ending debacle that people brought to his heart.
He tried to convince himself that no one was worth living for and if need for counsel arises, he could always get involved in emotional whoring to relieve his chest of his burden, though he would be reticent. At least, that would be safer than letting a foe hiding in your skin as friend divulge your secrets to enemies you already know.
He could see his life at the brink of getting shattered. The solace he had ran to finally turned to an enemy bent on turning him to a man marked with the kind of insanity only solitude could offer.
He would never admit his plight. He swallowed his pains and fears hard although deep within he knew he could have asked for help from the master but his ego never allowed him.
He was the pharisee that was blind but never admitted to Jesus that he may have sight. He died blind.
John 9:35-41
Jesus heard that they had put him out, and meeting him He said, Do you believe in and adhere to the Son of Man or the Son of God?
He answered, Who is He, Sir? Tell me, that I may believe in and adhere to Him.
Jesus said to him, You have seen Him; [in fact] He is talking to you right now.
He called out, Lord, I believe! [I rely on, I trust, I cleave to You!] And he worshiped Him.
Then Jesus said, I came into this world for judgment [as a Separator, in order that there may be separation between those who believe on Me and those who reject Me], to make the sightless see and to make those who see become blind.
Some Pharisees who were near, hearing this remark, said to Him, Are we also blind?
Jesus said to them, If you were blind, you would have no sin; but because you now claim to have sight, your sin remains. [If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but because you insist, We do see clearly, you are unable to escape your guilt.]
Everyday Jesus will only help if you allow him…
Christ a poet 