The Lesson.

“Crawl, creep, and walk from this place. You have lingered far too long.”

20 years ago, as a young man, words exploded from my fingers. I ran without restraint along the trail, mindful only of the trees and the path before me.

Scholars dressed  in philological drapes gazed at the flames and bid me to stop.

"Too much," they said. "Too free. The fire is fine; however, no one wants to be burnt by your Promethean debauchery.

I gawked at their words and gazed their fine linen.

"Teach me, " I said and peered into gray eyes.

"Come," they said with twinkles and winks. "Come let us teach you the world we think."

So, off I followed. I learned many learned things. 

Along the way, my fingers burned less and less. My heart sought and yearned for knowledge. I learned how to gather. I learned how to discern.  With facts and ideas my head did swell. And the further I walked the more my fingers quelled. Until one day the fires went out.

Learned darkness surrounded me. I stumbled. I saw that I was alone. I did not know how to find my way home.

So, I there I lay, my mind all swollen. The ideas and facts, though given, felt stolen.

Then one day, whilst I was eating loam, I heard an inner voice peep and moan, "Crawl, creep, and walk from this place. You have lingered far too long.  Crawl, walk, and creep. Your fingers are fine. Nothing is wrong."

That idea with the others swished and swirled. My fingers lit up. I stood to my feet as the fire twirled.  I smiled and walked with swagger and sway, the fire from my fingers lighting the way.