Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Conquistador

A new land discovered, food and spices, wild flowers and exotic beasts and dark cultures. But so many men stay in their ships, sailing from port to port, trying to find an empire of metals and jewels. Spend your life in endless pursuit, if pursuit is the thing you love most. Sail the seas, cut through jungles and everglades, but know before you set out that you'll never drink enough from any fountain to quench the thirst for youth. Those moments are now.


There are golden cities men spend their lives in search of. El Dorado, the gilt one, El Adorado, the loved one. I will be wise, search for a while, then find my golden city in the sunrise reflected off adobe walls. I'll find my perfect lover among the imperfect people around me and love that imperfect lover with a perfect love. I'll shine the golden light of my love onto austere earthy features, change the walls of that city into mirrors and doorways and beacons of solid gold.

3 comments:

Miss Emily Ann said...

Beautiful, not in the traditional way. Thank you for sharing.

¡91211790! said...
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¡91211790! said...

How Surreal--to discover one's inner thoughts to be without, and still intact. I've been reading the history of Colombia. I have been imagining myself as an observer as the events transpired, starting with the Spaniards' arrival here, only 2 hours away from where I now sit. I have been imagining the lives of the Tayrona Tribe, the Conquistadors, and "The Liberator". I have, actually, been walking on the very ground on which these people once walked, worked, played, bled and died, married and murdered.