Leaning against the only tree in the meadow he lit his pipe and noted the time...
The meadow grass swayed gently before him in the warm summer air, bees hurried about their work as the butterflies fluttered in seemingly random flight...
The leaves in the pipe glowed brightly as he savoured the flavour of his latest crop, pausing A moment to experience the full effect of this potent weed before exhaling A perfect smoke ring...through it were two figures sitting on a familiar boulder before him.
He could hear every word clearly as they conversed before him..........
“That mountain is full of Kings.....dead ones mind you...”
The young lad sat silently listening as they both looked up at the mountains before them.
“Noble men, hah!” he exclaimed, “Prancing about in all their finery............” ending the sentence with A wave of his hand at nothing in particular.
The boy knew these moods well, his father never spoke directly to him when he voiced his thoughts...he suspected the same actions and words would transpire even when alone.
He looked up to his father who continued to gaze into the distant mountains as he sucked on his pipe...”The hills of lies”....his words were almost inaudible.......
The words were so indistinct the boy imagined a moment he could hear the thoughts of his father....He listened closely...if he concentrated hard enough he believed he could hear his name spoken in there.
It had been quite a shock for him to realise his father never called him by name...His father used A particular tone of voice when he demanded his attention....He envied his friends when their father’s called them by name...All he ever heard was the voice of his father “It’s time to come in now”....it was not cruel or intimidating ...just ...well...just...it ,,,He was still trying to make sense of his feelings when the voice spoke....clearly directed to him though the mountains held his gaze...
“Oath breakers, they made promises lightly and could not...or would not.....fulfill them”.....he took another long draw on his pipe, and watched the smoke for long moments...........
“Noble is not a birthright.....it’s not an inheritance.......It’s who we choose to be”........The young boy watched as he blew a smoke ring down in his direction....
He giggled as it drifted over his head to settle on his shoulders...he knew his father wanted his full attention for what he was about to say.....He was not wrong........
“Honour, Integrity, Loyalty, Honesty, Compassion, Generosity....Any man who hold these true are Kings”.......Their eyes met for a moment...the boy searched there for A connection...he was still looking as the father turned back to the mountains....
“Up there are men who cared nothing for their own words...In their tombs they find no rest, they are no kings of mine....never make a promise you don’t intend to keep...or you will also sit with the oathbreakers...”
“Well....am I late!??” Blowing hard into the smoke she blew the scene before him back into history as his attention focused on her. "you know I hate that habit of yours Mugendo" she continued.
He smiled at her as he let the past return to its rightful place in time “No, I was early it seems”.
She was a picture of beauty framed by the still dancing meadow as she continued...
”You promised me a picnic, and an afternoon of music....am I to receive this from you?” she asked teasingly.
Mugendo simply looked down and tapped his foot against the lute and basket in the long grass at his feet before answering.....”Don’t want to break any promises do I” he replied chuckling half to himself.
