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Part of the Short Stories Series.

The Life Of A Breeze -- 08/01/08

In a Native American tribe, the father was talking to his young son when a breeze happened upon them. The boy asked where did the breeze come from and his father told the following story:

It was the union from the still of the air and the Mother of Time that this breeze was born. At first it blew gently as it sought a new direction to explore.

As the Sun rose in the sky, this wind grew in strength and flowed over the waters, swirling in tune with the currents below. It could skim the surface of that stream and then soar up above the banks on the other side towards the mountains in the distance beyond.

The Cliffs of Forever were strong and this wind could not overcome them. And so it curled back on itself and sought more freedom over the eternal grasses in the fields below. It's presence marked in the waves over their outstretched blades.

This wind then encountered the Tree of Life with its many children forming the branches. The tree's grandchildren, the leaves, thousands of them reached out to brush the wind and share the space and moment of their brief encounter.

Long was the distance traveled of this wind as afternoon went on. As the Father Sun set, this wind knew its journey of life would soon end. Its Spirit would remain as all life gives back after death. The still of the night was this wind's final resting place, the air waiting for morning and the birth of a new Child Breeze to take its place.


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