The Mysterious Boy

Has anyone paused and asked himself about the mysterious boy who climbed many hills to discover what was invisible to the eyes: the brilliance of the downing sun in the West? Mysteries are never perceived without faith, and his faith needed no credibility for doubt; belief is an assumption not based on fact: he struggled with it and discarded it as trash! Rocks on his path were no impediment, they glistened when hit by the sunrays; sunflowers turned golden and meadows changed to a russet color around sunset! He didn't have to jot down the idyllic scenery, it stayed so alive into his adolescent memory; no groping fear ever prevented his adventures: the more he discovered, the greater the joys! Who has never been captivated by Nature wouldn't know the awesome feeling inside; while other boys played soccer, he wrote literature: what surrounded him was too wondrous to admire! How many kids of his age preferred playing, never looking around and be wowed by delight, never running after a kite and discover a new height; He plucked pears off trees and rested toward evening! Did the insidious dusk of gloominess scare him much? He sat erect on that rock and watched luminaries appear; each one was an earthly soul fled to Heaven upon death: He whispered prayers while being charmed by their glitter!