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The man stood alone on the shore as the water pulled slowly on the sand, forcing it into a mutual embrace -- carrying each grain on a journey incapable without each participant. So the figure pulled on the sky -- the world, pulling it slowly to him. He stood with authority, with power -- he stood in the place of man -- with knowledge.
His posture showed no weakness, no doubt. His feet were planted firmly on the shore, unmoved by the tide as wisps of sand were taken by the sea. His body was rigid, like as statue, as if he had existed as this for a hundred centuries, and expected to see a hundred more.
His face: unmoving with an expression of comfort -- comforting the sand and sea in its quest, convincing the sky to join his. And around this solitary figure, the world seemed to shrink, as though nature was unsure of her role in this -- his world. For most stood in awe of nature, but this was the moment where nature stood in awe of man.
The only sign of movement was a flood of tears running down the man's face. But in the tears was no weakness -- but triumph, as the will of man imposed new limits on the physical world. And as the tears hit the sand, they pulled on the grains to join the sea -- guided by the soul of man, independent of the forces of nature -- a brief glimpse at true freedom through the dreams of man.
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