How many moons have passed?
And now as I approach my thirty-third summer of bashful boyhood, I fully accept the mold of a stern man. I come back to you again in this damp spot when I first saw you many years ago. When you revealed your head of moss and your slender olive wet body, I was entrapped forever in this lucid dream. I was but a soft nailed boy then, as I gazed at the blue horizon, carrying my sheer boredom with me, contemplating with my budding thoughts emerging from the malleable wet mind.
That is when you chose to shatter the foundation of my world and cast me into another. As you rose from the murky black waters, as an edifice of ancient art. You opened a doorway to a mystical dimension in my heart. And I was taken away by you forever.
Not even one word did you mutter; You held me captive with your prideful silence. What were you? An undiscovered species, or an echo from a long lost dream. Your silence was roaring inside me, quickening my soul as my heart was lit on fire. Weather from utter of fear or bewilderment, the hazy memory cannot help me discern.
Then you sunk back in your vast abode. Never to be seen again. However, in that brief encounter, we shared an eternity beyond the bounds of time. Forever freezing my youth, and I was a boy locked in this aging husk.
In the following days, I was shamed by all who knew me, and my insistence brought me further ridicule. I came again to face the dry scorn of this withering metallic world. Since no one believed me, I entrusted my secrets to my cold dark nights. I chose to dream of you as a friend and a dear empowering companion. Nevertheless, there was no lack of bitter tears drenching my pillows as I refused to give up on my beloved sea creature.
As time kept churning and my rebellion stirring, I witnessed myself loathing you, even more, hating the very day our eyes crossed beams. Why did the wavelets of time toss me in this wretched fate? Why was I unfortunate to catch this flicker of magic, then to be again forgotten among the wandering throng of my race.
Nevertheless, isn’t hate but another shade of love? Was it possible that I loved you even strongly and deeply as your image burst inside from the fleeting memory, shooting tendrils in my brittle bones? I was now possessed with this blue dream melded in reality. The creature had enmeshed itself in the lattice of my broken spirit.
While coursing through the years of my existence, my obsession found new means to communicate with the world. The magic had to touch the air of this realm of empty beings, something to speak to their hearts and long forgone dreams. So I made you my tormenting Muse, a new use of my shackling past. I wrote stories of your early days, adventures as you fought beasts of seven seas and raging cyclones, battling water demons and marrying the fairest maidens with pearly white skin and golden locks of hair.
People feasted on my fantasies, and I had never been happier. People praised my obsessions as art. It was their only way I could make you real, and for once I mattered as well.
And now you might wonder, after twenty-seven years of yearning, why do I come back to you, to be met by the lapping waves tapping on green rocks.
I humbly thank you for that fascinating glimpse. Dear sea boy, I thank you for prodding my soul and showing me the charming depths of my heart.
This is the message I choose to give the world.
That beyond the mundane screen, there lie utter wonders that choose not to reveal themselves, only to those mad enough to cherish and endure.
To tell this world of parallel others we only dare to venture in our early days. You made me believe beyond what my eyes can tell me; that is my gift. As if I and few others can breathe in your world. So we soothe aching mortals with stories of your immortal life of glorious quests.
Dear triton, whether you were real or a spawn of my imagination. I accept you as my rivet to the enchanted world. You were then my Herald. And now I call you my savior.