His ways...dark and blue...

And what he always feared
The storm...and the lightning...
They entered...
With fury of their own...

'that old young man...
i am going to disown...
For Him i am here...
In this wasteland with no shelter near...
Only that thin long coconut tree...
She could never save me...
Can she?
From this fury?'
The kid thought...
Panicky...
Nervous...

And looked at the sky...
Blue had gone
Dark heavy clouds there did collide
And those flashes...
Blinding searing one...
The kid...
Sweating profusely closed his eyes...
Just then a spear came white silver
With fear he shuddered...

'i got to find Him...
The architect...
He had left me here...
Without any direct...
Where to move?
This Wasteland?
And no white or blue
Only dark clouds...'

The kid closing his eyes prayed
For Him...
The grand old man
The architect...
Who had seen springs
And wells and hurricane...
And just then
In his wet pocket
Of shirt
he remembered
He had given him a smooth triangular stone...
Which in the dark shone...
he the kid recalled
The architect's call
'remember kid...
Even if you are old
You are young
And you are never young
If you are not old...'
the kid got confused
Trying to realise full
The grand old spring filled man's words...
'this stone...
Keep it in your hands
And if you are afraid
Just hold it on your left palm
And press it hard...
You would feel its coldness
And hardness too...
That feel you should allow into you...
And if the lightning spear like start to blind you
And dewy sweat get pasted like glue
On your forehead
Or skin
Or nosetip...
Just lie down flat
On the open ground
On the grass...
Be a part of that land...
Earth...
She is the most neutral
No lightning could cause any fever
To you then...
Upon her breast
Laid perfect
You are the safest...'
The kid recalling those words
Ran to the middle
Where the rain came lashing
With stormy rage and lightning spear
And he lied down flat bare
On the ground...
Getting into the earth's muddy mound...
And those long grass
They enveloped him...
The triangular stone
he kept pressing...
And prayed...

How long he was there
he could not guess out
But he woke up hearing a known voice...
'the rain had stopped
And so also the storm...
Look up kid...
Just look at the springy morn...'

he at once
Opened his eyes...
And saw Him
The architect
Fully drenched
And he smiled...

The morn was breaking...
Birds after the storm had started gathering twigs...
Some cuckoos started singing...
Seeing the Light...

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