Mustard seed conjured up images of fields, fields of yellow flowers like the surface of the sea on a windy day, stretching end to end across the basin of a valley, while the mountains emerged grey and sheer, capped with white, forming a container for the undulating masses of flora. The sky hovered over all, threatening rain.
The train rolled on through, disturbing the quiet communion of earth and sky, breaking the continuum of nature with its harsh angles and stark linearity. The desire for a shred of faith defined her whole journey, had eluded and indeed tormented her, yet here it was, laid out before her, as far as the eye's witnessing could reach: a field of mustard seed.
No comments:
Post a Comment